


Ravaging Radstorm

by ElZeeKay



Series: Radstorms [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7752571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElZeeKay/pseuds/ElZeeKay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Book III of Radstorm Series  - The Commonwealth will face their worst enemy just as they are beginning to flourish and create good lives for their people. The odds are not in their favor, and it will take a miracle to save them in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Henrietta had found a nice patch of wild carrot blossoms. Her mother dried them out and used them for decorating. Her mother also wove baskets and put the two things together to make lovely centerpieces to sell at market. Her dried flower arrangements were becoming popular and the traveling provisioners always had new orders for her. Her mother said that’s because things were becoming more civilized. And when things got civilized, people had the time and the yearnings for beauty.  
Henrietta, her little brother called her ‘Etta, which she preferred, cut the stems close to the ground, the way her mom liked, so she could tie them and hang them upside down in her drying shed.  
‘Etta wished again, as she had so many times before, that there were other children, besides her and her brother. Her mother had told her that long, long ago, when the world was different, there were children aplenty. Not so now. Most men and women were barren, Etta’s mother told her. It was the radiation, she said. That made her and Nemo special, her mother told her. And she always scooted them into the underground bunker when the radstorms hit. Her mother told her she and Nemo were the future’s hope.  
‘Etta wasn’t sure she liked the idea of being the future’s hope because she might be able to have children one day. She might like to one day, maybe, but she hoped it was because she had fallen in love and she and her sweetheart wanted to have children together. Not like Brandon raising his herd of brahmin, and so proud of his prize bull.  
‘Etta had never met her father and her mother wouldn’t talk about him. Her husband, whom Etta did remember, was the father of Nemo. He had left shortly after Nemo was born. He had left them. Her mother was still mad at him for it, ‘Etta knew. 

She had cut the blossoms, leaving two, which was her mother’s rule. She had taught ‘Etta that the last two had to be left to go to seed and make more wild carrots. She said it was very important never to take those last two. ‘Etta always left them standing.  
Her mother right now was very happy and excited. Not her usual serious, grumpy self. The leader of the whole Commonwealth, known simply by the letter Z for her name, which ‘Etta thought was kind of fascinating, had sent out packets of seeds to all the settlements that she said must be grown where they could be sheltered from radstorms. Randolf, their handyman, had quickly made her mother a greenhouse from sandwiched materials and a cover that could be moved on and off that her promised would do the trick.  
The seeds had sprouted, and her mother had told her in an awed whisper, as she gently, barely touched those first fragile seedling leaves, that these were plants that hadn’t been seen in the ‘Wealth for over 200 years. Her mother tended to them several times a day. Which left the gathering of wild blossoms and pretty vines to ‘Etta. She didn’t mind, though. That left washing dishes and sweeping for her little brother, Nemo. Chores that she despised. Her mother had declared that if Nemo could reach the sink, he was old enough to do dishes. Behind their mother’s back, Nemo had stuck out his tongue at her, frowning fiercely as she wiped her eyes in mock sorrow as she grinned at him wickedly.  
‘Etta paused as she heard something foreign in the distance. She put her collecting basket down, and went silently toward the sound. It didn’t sound like animals. It sounded like … the ocean or something large. She had no category for the sound to fit in in her mind.  
Silently, she followed the ragstag path through the meadow, and entered into the wood. She silently found her way through the floor of the forest until she came to the crest of a rocky crag and where she was able to see for a quite a good distance. The sound was definitely coming closer.  
She waited, laying down under a scraggly shrub that gave her just a bit of cover. Her clothes were of dull earth colors and she had on a bonnet of the same material. She knew from playing hiding games with Nemo that she would be next to invisible even to seeking eyes.  
She slowed her breathing and quieted herself. She prided herself on her hunting skills. She slipped her knife from its sheath and held it at the ready, just in case.  
The first figures came into sight. Then more came. And then even more. And after that, even more. They were fierce looking fighters, with frightening face paint and tattoos covering their chests and limbs. Their eyes were cold and promised no mercy. And weapons. They bristled with weapons.  
She watched for another few seconds before she realized there was no end to the group that she could see, and if they kept heading in the direction they were, they would come upon her settlement. Her home. Her mother and brother and all their people.  
She didn’t imagine they were coming for dried flower arrangements.  
‘Etta forced down the sobbing breath her lungs wanted to take, and the sickening feel of adrenaline coursing up from her kidneys into her chest and spreading out.  
She crept back on her belly with her head down until she could no longer see the armed force. As soon as she felt she was far enough, she ran, collecting basket and all her morning’s gatherings left behind. She ran as she had never run before. She was flying, leaping over rocks and root, as sure footed as a ragstag. Her whole settlement depended on her speed now. There were killers coming.  
As she crested the last hill, she saw her home, Arnette Valley, nestled cozily inside a circle of gentle rises. The neat rows of crops, the tidy homes, the new buildings under construction which were going to be a sawmill and carpentry shop and school.  
She scrambled down the hill and didn’t stop until she was in the center of town and ran to the large bell used for gatherings or trouble. She never in her life had heard it ring for this kind of trouble. She rang the large bell with all her might, the loud gonging hurting her ears, but still she rang and rang it. People were starting to run towards the center of town. She saw Nemo and her mother coming too.  
The unofficial leader of their town was Dale Griffith. He came ambling up to her with his round girth and long mustache, frowning mightily at her.  
“Henrietta, now you know that ringing that bell is not for children to do. I am telling you right now, if you don’t have one helluva good reason for ringing it ...”  
She screamed, then, at him, at all of them, “There’s an army of killing folk on their way here. And I’m telling you, if we don’t get everyone gone right now, we’re all dead. We don’t have any time at all – they’re coming up behind me.”  
Griffith’s eyes widened, “Tell me more, young lady,” he ordered.  
“There’s no time for talking, Mr. Griffith! They are coming! Get everyone out and running now!” her own eyes were showing their whites all around, and her breath was coming in ragged gasps. Tears were streaking her face and she didn’t remember when she started crying.  
Griffith turned to the Valley’s people. “I need two scouts to check it out. Hal and Peter. You go, and be careful. Try and get a head count and a description of what these ‘killing folk’ look like.” He turned and yelled out in a loud voice to all the villagers, “For safety’s sake, we are going to evacuate now. Don’t stop to grab anything but some provisions and whatever weapons you have with as much ammo as you can carry – and just go. Travel due east, toward Somerville Place.” He turned to Jed Mitchell, “Jed, you radio The Castle and let ‘em know. We need help and we need it now. And then get the hell out yourself. Let’s go people, don’t lollygag.”  
‘Etta threw herself at Mr. Griffith and hugged him, “Thank you for believing me,” she panted out.  
“Well, now, Miss Henrietta, I have known you your whole little life and I have never seen a look like that on your face. Now go on, and get your mom and brother moving. Quick, now.”  
He gave her a gentle swat her on the backside as left, running to her mother and Nemo.  
Her mother wanted to bring her precious seedlings with her and some of her most prized books. ‘Etta almost exploded with frustration. Ignoring her mother, she gathered up bottled water and dried food, a hunk of cheese and two loaves of bread and stuffed them into a pack. She snatched up their two pipe rifles and the pistol and stuffed the ammunition in the bag too.  
“Mom, you won’t be able to help any plants grow or ever read a book again, if you don’t come with me NOW,” she yelled.  
Her mother looked stunned, but she nodded and took the pack and the rifle her daughter handed her as ‘Etta loaded up two more packs for herself and Nemo.  
“Come on, come on. Come on!” she hissed out through her clenched teeth, trying to hurry. She grabbed Nemo and her mother by their hands and pulled them out.  
“Run!” she cried and tried to pull them with her.  
They ran. The entire village ran, except for the scouts and Jed that Griffith had sent off.  
It wasn’t long, though, before Jed, Hal and Pete had caught up to Griffith, who was huffing and out of breath. Dale Griffith wasn’t in running shape anymore.  
Jed, panting, had reported that he hadn’t managed to get to the radio. The scouts had returned wide-eyed and screamed to him to run before he even got to the radio hut. The three of them bolted. Jed said he got a glimpse of the hoard before he and Hal and Peter had ducked into the woods and ran away as fast as they could. He described what ‘Etta had seen. Painted and tattooed warriors or raiders – looking to spill blood or take slaves. Or both.  
“Look!” someone called out.  
‘Etta looked around her, scared and confused, but then followed everyone’s eyes and saw.  
The sky was filling with black, thick smoke to the east. The men were burning their village.  
Griffith stopped. He called several men to him and told the rest of the villagers to continue on, not to stop and keep going no matter what they heard. If there were any volunteers who wanted to try and slow down the killers, they were welcome to stay, he said.  
“You all run now, as fast as you can. Split up into smaller groups, and head in different directions. Go now!” Griffith commanded.  
‘Etta started to go to him, but Nemo grabbed her arm, “No!” he said, horror in his voice, “We need you, ‘Etta!”  
So, ‘Etta took her mother and brother and pulled them away to the southeast where the narrow ragstag paths she knew would lead them to the caves she had discovered in her wanderings. The opening were hidden by greenery this time of year.  
“Hurry, hurry, hurry…” she chanted and pulled on Nemo’s arm. Her mother was falling behind.  
“Mom!” ‘Etta called, “Hurry!”  
Her mother was winded, though, and said, panting, “I can’t run any more Henrietta. I can’t.” She had stopped with her hands on her knees breathing hoarsely.  
“You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you. Leave me the sign, and I’ll know.”  
When ‘Etta found the caves, she looked around desperately. She broke off some of the vines and made a heart shape out of them off the side of the path. That was the sign her mother had been talking about. A game they used to play. She pulled Nemo in.  
They went deeper into the caves, but it was not deep enough to hide the screaming when it started.


	2. The Milk of Human Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet do I fear thy nature,  
> It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness  
> To catch the nearest way.  
> Macbeth Act 1, scene 5, 15–18

I arched away from the power armored fist that pistoned out at me so fast it was a blur of motion. I used my booster to lift myself in the air as I jumped backwards, and landed fully balanced and ready to look for an opening. Ha! Smooth. I was getting good at this. I tried to ignore the hooting and whistling I was hearing from those watching the battle.  
I sidled to the left, then used my booster again to give my attack extra speed. I tried to swing my hand into my opponent’s neck and kick out his knee at the same time.   
He caught my hand as if I had moved in slow motion and took one step back at the same time, avoiding my kick easily.  
In one fluid motion, he had his hip behind mine and his knee behind mine, and pushed it out from under me.  
I fell, power armor and all and he landed on me with his knee holding me down and his fist held up over my helmet.   
I was doomed.  
“Uncle, already!” I cried out, “How do you do that? You move as if you aren’t wearing a 60 pound suit of armor! You might as well be Nureyev in a leotard.”  
Danse, stood, and helped me up. “I don’t know what a leotard is, but I can tell you the answer. Years and years of practice, soldier. You keep practicing and one day…no, never mind. You’ll get better though.” He smiled at me cheerily. “And, who or what is a nurry-ev?”   
I shook my head, then rolled my shoulders, “A ballet dancer of yesteryear. How about tomorrow?” I asked. I wanted so much to win in power armor, just once.   
“Any time at all, General,” he promised. “You just say when, and I’ll be there.”  
Shaun had been watching. He had to until he was tall enough to get into some power armor for himself. He was getting really close. He clapped and grinned. “Dad, you are so savage! I don’t know anyone who can make it look so easy. Especially taking down Mom. That is so prodigious!”  
I shot him a look, and said with a huff, “We’ll do swords next time. And you’ll watch.”  
He laughed with delight. “I like the power armor bouts better.”  
“Well. I’ll remind you of that when you’re older and in my place getting the tar beat out of you,” I said airily, “I am going to shower now. See you boys in a bit.”  
Shaun snorted in laughter. Danse looked very satisfied.  
I left them with Danse getting out of his armor and Shaun getting his basketball out of his locker.   
This afternoon we were going to the Commonwealth Science Academy. The super mutant Strong was going too.   
Dr. Virgil had finally created a new serum to reverse the Forced Evolutionary Virus’ mutation; the common strain of it at least. He reported his success, after he had tested it on a mutant our forces had captured and delivered to him alive. He was also working on a vaccine to prevent the virus from ever surviving in a human body and he announced it was ready for testing. How did one test a vaccine like that?  
If these two things worked, it could make the world a much safer place. Still, no one had found out where the mutants were getting FEV from, but they continued to capture and infect humans to keep up their numbers.   
Someone out there was providing the FEV for them or there were a few with enough intelligence who were producing it themselves.   
They were sterile, sexless creatures and the FEV was their only method of propagation. The virus made them into what reminded me of a comic character in my time called the Hulk – big, green, ugly and mad as hell. The most common strain of the forced evolutionary virus put its victims in a state of permanent and unremitting rage as well as being huge and powerful.   
It had initially been investigated as a way to make super soldiers – but these creatures turned on their creators with murder as their only desire. They were uncontrollable.   
They banded together in groups called hives. They were intelligent enough for battle tactics and they were deadly, fearless fighters.   
The Institute, which was gone now, had continued in this line of experimentation, even though it failed again and again to produce obedient, sane soldiers.   
Dr. Brian Virgil had finally succeeded in somewhat perfecting the virus. But instead of sharing it, he infected himself with the new strain of FEV. It had allowed him to keep his reason and it was his means of escape. He had no urge to kill or fight. He left the Institute and went into hiding near the Crater of the bomb that hit this part of the state. The mutants had more rad resistance than any human.   
I had found the serum that could reverse his change for him in his old lab. He had left it behind in his confusion as he was mutating.   
He had quickly destroyed any and all records of this new strain’s development, as it had somewhat accomplished what so many years of searching had as its goal.   
I had asked Dr. Brian Virgil to give his cure to Strong – who didn’t want to be cured. He loved being a mutant. But the unmutated human he or she had been had certainly not wanted to be a monster. I had only met or heard of two people ever infecting themselves with the virus on purpose.   
Strong would listen to me and he trusted me. I almost felt guilty about what I was going to do this afternoon, but if it was me, I would want to be me again and lose the monster, if I had a choice in the matter. The human still hidden and silenced inside of Strong deserved that chance.

The twins were upstairs napping. Codsworth was watching over them. I waved at him and went up one more flight of stairs to Danse’s and my room. I turned on the shower and let the water get hot, as I stripped and put my clothes in our hamper.   
I dressed in jeans and a button up top with short sleeves. Combed my hair and braided it. It was down to my butt now. Danse liked it long, and I did too. I could always tuck it away for combat.  
The twins were still sleeping when I left them in the care of Annie, Lucy and Codsworth.  
Forquar had come to pick us up. Danse waited with him while I went to get Strong.  
“Too quiet here. Strong needs to go kill something,” he complained at me when I approached him.  
“Strong, we’ve found the milk of human kindness. Brian Virgil has it ready for you.” I said smiling broadly at him.  
“Finally! Strong had almost given up on finding milk of human kindness!” he smiled fiercely, “Now Strong will be stronger than anyone!”  
“Yes, so hurry, we have to go and get it.” I said, taking his giant hand in mind and tugging.  
He grunted at me and came with me. He looked askance at the vertibird, but I said, “Milk of human kindness, Strong.”  
“Bah, want milk, but don’t like flying like bird,” he growled, scowling. He entered anyway and sat. He took up space for three people easily.  
Strong’s belief in magical properties of the milk of human kindness was born from a radio actor, Rex Goodman, who tried to be a missionary to the super mutants, believing if they were exposed to culture it would be transforming. Between reading them Shakespeare and talking to him, Strong had come to the conclusion that this milk of human kindness was what made humans superior to mutants and able to beat them in battle more than they lost. Strong had set out to find this milk, believing it would give him the superiority and the advantage over humans and mutants alike.   
I knew my Shakespeare and knew the milk of human kindness was just the opposite – it was mercy and love that Goodman was trying to explain made humanity superior and ultimately victorious in the end, but poor Strong could not conceive of such things.  
So, I had offered to help him find it and taken him with me for a while. This was before I met Danse, who really, really, hated super mutants. He had seen things that I couldn’t even imagine in his life in the Capital Wasteland and here as well. I was glad I hadn’t. I had killed my fair share of super mutants and had seen their grisly handiwork and home decorating ideas.   
They ate people. And decorated with the leftovers.  
Danse held my hand and smiled as we took off. I grinned back. He liked action. He was a born warrior and sitting in one place too long wasn’t easy for him. Battle energized him and he fed off the adrenaline rushes. I thought he was doing quite well.  
We had had over a dozen, long, sweet months of peace in the ‘Wealth and things just kept getting better.   
Schools of trade were cropping up in several settlements and our engineers and scientists were building more and more helpful machines, from new materials, not scavenged ones. The foundry had tool dies now and were casting screws and nails and I-beams to order, as well as castings for particular needs.   
More reactors were going up and all the settlements had power now.   
We had discovered an unfinished vault, too, with uranium to mine as a bonus. It had been full of materials for construction that had never been used. The seal wasn’t good, and the poor overseer trapped in there for two centuries had been ghoulified. The woman still wanted to carry on her planned experiments if we got the vault up and running. I had told her she was welcome to stay, but no thanks to the Vault-Tec agenda. Construction was ongoing there. Another radiation free zone for people to settle.   
It wasn’t for Danse or I, who both thought living underground was claustrophobic. I had suggested we use it for people having children, to raise them away from radiation poisoning.   
There weren’t that many.   
My musings ended as we landed on the rooftop of the CSA. Danse lept down and caught me as I jumped out. Strong clambered out backwards, awkwardly.   
“Where is milk?” he demanded.  
“Follow me, Strong,” I said, leading to the rooftop doorway that led into the Academy. We went down four floors and found Dr. Virgil waiting for us.  
“So, this is the famous Strong, eh?” he asked looking the super mutant up and down.  
“Strong don’t want talk. Strong want milk of human kindness. Now.” Strong said frowning mightily.  
“Got it right here for you, friend.” Brian Virgil held up a flask of milky white fluid. “This is it.”   
Strong grabbed it and drank it down. He frowned and waited a moment.  
“Strong doesn’t feel any different!” he said angrily, he tossed the flask aside carelessly. It didn’t break, but bounced off the rubber lab mats.  
Dr. Virgil spoke in a soothing voice, “It takes some time to work, Strong. It has to go through your system, spread throughout your body and mind.”  
Strong looked frustrated, “Strong has waited a long time for milk.”   
“Then waiting a few hours more shouldn’t make much difference, Strong,” I said patting his arm, “Why don’t you come with me to the practice range, and we’ll kill a few dummies, eh?” I suggested.   
Danse announced he was going to visit the Armory and the Smithy in Jamaica Plain.  
Strong grumpily agreed to go and I took him to the shooting range across the newly paved street.  
I gave him a nice, loud, sawed-off shotgun to shoot with, which did splendid damage to the dummy he was given to practice on. He grunted with satisfaction at every gaping hole he produced.   
Soon he announced he was tired. “Strong need to sleep now,” he said as if angry. He kind of always sounded angry.  
I brought him back to Dr. Virgil’s lab, and Brian led him to an alcove with a bed in it. It was a little small for the mutant, but he didn’t complain. Just curled up on it and fell fast asleep.  
“How long?” I asked.  
Brian Virgil watched the sleeping Strong, with a slight smile on his face. “The first one took 12 hours. It works fast. Look, Z, you can see it happening if you watch.”  
I turned to watch too. It was imperceptible at first, but then I could see it. The green color was fading. The flesh very slowly melting into itself. Strong was becoming smaller.  
“Why don’t I show you some other projects I’ve been working on to pass the time?” he suggested.   
“Sure,” I said.   
Through a doorway, there was another lab. This one had tall cylinders filled with fluid and in each one was a creature, suspended in the fluid and with tubes and leads attached to it.  
“Dr. Holdren sent me some frozen pairs of embryos of various pre-war animals – a male and female of each. We are growing, let’s see here,” he looked at the labels on the bottom of the tanks, “a ewe and a ram, a male and female llama, and a she-goat and a billy goat, according to the labels they came with.” He checked his terminals and seemed satisfied. “They are going to make it, I think. Come, Z.”   
I followed him into the next room which housed what looked like a miniature Eden Dome. “Holdren says we have to keep them radiation free – they have no adaptations to survive it like the local fauna. I was going to ask you about that new site – the new vault you’ve found. Do you think it could be adapted for raising and keeping these animals?”  
“You’re going to need grass, a lot of grass,” I said, gazing at the herbivores, “I hope Holdren sent you seeds. And of course, that’s a fine idea for the vault site. It’s huge. A large portion could be built to your specifications. I will have to bring it to the CPG for a vote. I am sure it will pass with no problems. I may need you there to present your case, though.”  
“We have fescue seed started. White and Engill are growing it for us in the botany lab. And I will be more than happy to present our case. Just let me know and get me there.”  
“Good. I will. This is so amazing,” I said, touching the cylinder and gazing at the extinct mammal being brought back to life.  
“Yes, it is. I know I’ve thanked you, Z, before, but I want to again. I never imagined us living above ground in a decent way, but it’s happening right before my eyes. And for getting me my serum. I –“ he stopped and had to clear his throat twice.  
“No need to go on,” I said gently, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, “I know, Brian. And it’s us who got the best of it. A cure for FEV. It will change the world.”  
I heard Strong groaning and I looked to Brian, eyes wide.  
“Normal, it’s normal, Z,” he assured me, “He shouldn’t wake up. The other mutant didn’t.”  
“Good,” I said, gratefully. Strong, for all his monstrosity, was my friend. “Did the other one remember being a super mutant?”  
“No. Trauma, I suppose. He doesn’t remember getting caught or being given the FEV, nor anything while in that state. I would assume Strong’s experience will be similar.”  
“Then he won’t even know me,” I said, thoughtfully.  
“No, he probably won’t,” Virgil said, “but he’ll have himself back, and I can tell you from personal experience, it’s worth it.”  
It was lunchtime, so I excused myself to go find Danse. According to Virgil’s estimation, it would be around 11 p.m. before Strong woke up. Changed.  
I walked to Harold’s home to say hello and Lydia answered the door. The petite brunette with big brown eyes smiled warmly and gave me a hug.   
“You have to bring the girls soon,” she said, releasing me, “Oh, how I long to see them!”   
I reached into my pack and brought out the sketches that Curie had made of the girls and that Piper had made copies of for me. I gave Lydia one. “Not a visit, but you can see what they look like right now. They grow so fast.”  
“Oh, my, could they be any cuter?” she said as she examined the drawing. She sighed.  
“So any news? How is the town council thing going?” I asked.  
“Come in. Come in for some tea. Ugh. Politics. Poor Harold. The silly complaints he is asked to moderate. Who has how much square footage in the building and the person who works hardest and fastest should get more profit from the settlement’s crops and more all the time. It seems to me, now that people aren’t worried about just staying alive from day to day, that there’s time to be petty and greedy.”  
“Probably more of a sense of wanting every just and fair,” I suggested, “it’s kind of built into us to want those things. We’ll probably eventually start having legal ownership of property and more. It’s going to be harder before it gets easier. I just hope someone else is in charge when that happens.”  
“Z! Don’t say that! You’re the sanest person I know and the fairest. I shudder to think of some others that would love to be the presider.” She looked back at me as she prepared a pot of tea.  
“And that’s probably the big hint – if they want it, they’re either clueless or they think it will give them power and influence or riches or some foolishness.” I helped her set the maple sugar and cream out.  
“Wait a minute. That’s silly. You’re neither clueless nor power hungry.” Lydia’s cute nose wrinkled as she grinned at me. She sipped her tea and sighed with pleasure.

“I know. It’s more that I don’t want the job. I am doing what I was asked to and trying to do a decent job of it,” I grinned back.  
“Oh, so you’re saying, if someone doesn’t want the job, that’s the right person or a pretty good clue that they are a good choice for it,” she laughed.  
“Yes. Exactly. Now, any juicy news?” I touched her arm.   
“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “Lyle has taken on two new apprentices, because his senior apprentices can teach them the beginning stuff. Suddenly, his job is easier and he keeps up with all the orders he gets. And there’s a lot of them. Smithing is a different kettle, I suppose with the dangers of getting burned and such. So they’ve taken on only one junior apprentice, name of Kenneth Plunkett from Abernathy. But it gives Lynda more time to get all artsy with her stuff. She’s making some amazing wrought iron pieces.”  
“Good! Dr. Virgil just showed me his embryos. They are going to be amazing. Llamas and goats and sheep.”  
“I can’t wait to see them when they’re born,” Lydia sighed. “Harold and I, we’re trying to get pregnant, but so far, no go.”  
“I hope it happens for you, Lydia,” I said, patting her hand.  
“So, any new people come these last few months?” I asked.  
“Three newbies,” she said, looking cheerful. “Seem like good enough folk. A young fellow and two older women. We’ve got them farmed out, until we can get new homes built. They seem to be adapting well. They used to be scavvers.”  
We chatted a while longer, and she fed me a light lunch. I told her about Admina and Frank Hobart’s marriage and Curie and Deacon’s devotion to one another. I told her Shaun was teaching himself old card games from old books from Agnes’ library. He was also designing a deck of cards for Piper to print on thick paper. He was going to make a book with directions on the various games to be sold with a deck of cards.  
When I got up to go find Danse, I gave her a parting hug and told her I would love a visit from her and Harold. Then she could see the twins in person.   
I walked to the Smithy and saw Danse outside talking with Carl the smith. Danse was testing out a sword, swinging it deftly with a practiced hand.  
“Hey,” I called approaching. My face broke into a smile. I couldn’t help it. When I saw him, it just happened.  
“Hey, yourself, soldier,” he said, smiling back. His warm brown eyes caused my insides to warm up.  
“Whoa, should I like, leave you two alone or what?” Carl asked raising his eyebrow with one side of his mouth smiling.  
“Why?” Danse asked.  
“Never mind. I’ve got to get back to work anyway. See you two later,” he waved and ducked back into the smithy. I could hear the hammer striking an anvil with regular hits.   
I kissed him hello, and since we were alone, I kissed him again, for a lot longer.   
He spoke into my ear, “When you do that, I could take you right where you stand.”  
I snuggled into him, “We could find the guest rooms,” I suggested. I told him we had to wait until eleven p.m. for Strong. We had time to spend. What better way to spend it?  
“Temptress,” he chided softly, “but, perhaps you are in need of a nap?”  
I faked a yawn. “I am sooo sleepy, Danse,” I said, “let’s go get a room.”  
We did.  
And I did fall asleep. After. Danse woke me for dinner at Harold and Lydia’s.   
We had a nice dinner with them, talking easily. Lydia was right. Harold was having anyone with any type of gripe or complaint come to him expecting him to make it right. He was ready to pull his hair out. And he had a lot of it - all over.  
“Harold, I think you must make them wait for your monthly council meeting and come before the council and present their cases. Maybe with some wait time some of the lesser complaints will resolve on their own. You’ll just have to put your foot down and make them follow protocol.” I suggested, frowning.  
“Yes, I know. It’s just that I know everyone and I care about them too. But you’re right. I can’t please all of them all the time and that’s just the way it’ll have to be.” He sighed heavily.   
“They’ll accept it pretty quickly,” I promised, because every one of them will have to go through the exact same process – it rules out any chance of thinking there’s any favoritism.”

We moved away from politics and onto progress. Harold was excited because more and more people were digging up old inventions or ideas and finding ways to make them happen. One of his settlers had made a simple washing machine for clothes. Another had made a hydroponics planting station that gave more ten times the yield of ground planting. He couldn’t keep up with all the creativity happening in his town.  
Finally, when our hostess gave a great yawn and it spread to Harold, we said our goodnights. It was still early, but we headed back to the CSA to see how our Strong was coming along.  
Virgil was on his way to find us, and we met in the middle of the road.  
“Strong is already pretty much done changing,” he said, his face full of wonder. “Come, and see.”


	3. Beast and Beauty

We came in and Brian Virgil led the way to the little alcove where we had left Strong sound asleep.  
My brain couldn’t process what my eyes were relaying to it right away.  
On the bed was the most beautiful woman I believe I had ever seen in my life. Naked too. She had dark, dark red hair, longer than mine, dark brows and lashes that were way longer than mine, and she had a tiny waist and the rest of her was shapely and curvaceous. Even her feet were pretty.  
I remembered to breathe. “You didn’t hide the mutant somewhere and are playing a trick on us?” I asked half joking.  
“You’d better get the poor girl some clothes,” Danse said frowning slightly and trying not to stare.  
I have some extra lab wear around here,” said Dr. Virgil going to one of the lockers in the room.  
Then the woman turned, and opened her lovely, jade green eyes, and cleared her throat, “Where am I?” she asked foggily, still trying to wake up fully. Even her voice was lovely and pleasing to the ear.  
I sat by her bed, which she fit into very easily now, and gently removed the pieces of Strong’s old armor that were still on her. “You are in a Science Academy,” I said smiling at her, “In Jamaica Plain, in the Commonwealth. Where are you from?”  
“I’m from the town of Pleasant Valley,” she said.  
“Where is that?” Danse asked her.  
She looked at Danse, and sighed. “In the Taconics,” she said. “My family is there.”  
“We’ll take you home, then,” Danse promised. Her eyes didn’t leave his face.  
“If you can give us landmarks, it will help us find it,” He said. He smiled for her.  
“It’s between the Hudson River and the old Taconic Parkway,” she said, smiling back at him.  
Dr. Virgil brought her some tie pants and a lab coat. I helped her dress. The men had turned away for some semblance of privacy for her.  
“Tomorrow then, in the morning. If you are up to the trip. We’ll be flying,” Danse told her, “What’s your name?”  
“Callista. Callista Bellwether. And you?” Her lovely eyes took in every bit of Danse. I was thinking some very uncharitable thoughts and missing my friend Strong right about now.  
“Danse. And this is my wife, Z. Dr. Brian Virgil, here, has been caring for you.”  
“I don’t know how to thank you. All of you,” she said finally cast her gaze at me and Brian, before bringing her eyes back to Danse, who was gazing back. I had the urge to elbow him, but quelled it.  
“Are you hungry or thirsty?” I asked gently.  
“No, no, I’m not…Actually, I feel kind of nauseous.”

“Normal side effect,” Dr. Virgil said matter of factly.  
“Side effect of what?” Callista asked, frowning slightly.  
“I gave you a serum. You had been infected with forced evolutionary virus, my dear,” he explained in a calm tone, “it has been quite some time since you’ve been yourself.”  
“How long?” she asked, her eyes suddenly wide with shock, “and what kind of virus?”  
“We’re not sure how long,” I added quickly, wondering if Virgil had any bedside manner at all. “We’ll find out for sure when we find your family.”  
“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathed. “I am very anxious to go home.”  
“Sleep for now,” Dr. Virgil said, “I am going to give you a sleeping aid. It will help with the nausea and the headache.”  
“Headache?” she looked askance at him.  
“You don’t have one?” he asked, surprised.  
“No. I don’t really want to take any drugs, doctor. If they aren’t necessary,” She said, her voice beginning to quake.  
“I strongly recommend you do, my dear. I’m your doctor, now and you need your sleep, especially since its looking like tomorrow is going to be a very active day for you.” He said looking stern.  
Danse saved the day; he took her hand and looked into her eyes, “It’s safe, Callista. We’ve been taking care of you and keeping you safe. We won’t let any harm come to you. I promise.”  
“Alright, then. Thank you, Danse,” she said not letting go of his hand.  
He waited until she had taken the pills and she began to drift off, before he gently pried her fingers from his.  
I smiled at them. Danse looked at me strangely. “Why do you have that look on your face?” he asked.  
“What look?” I was smiling, for crying out loud.  
“Like you just bit into a mutfruit and found it was rotten.”  
I rolled my eyes, “Nevermind. Let’s go radio home and let them know we’re spending the night. And tell Forquar too.”  
“Alright,” Danse said standing, “And Dr. Virgil, the girl is disoriented and frightened, so try to make her feel safe and not bring up all the possible side effects she could experience or tell her she’s been a super mutant for a few years. If you don’t mind my advice.”  
He shrugged, good naturedly. “Sure, sure, Danse, whatever you say. I am much more at home in the lab with my beakers and petri dishes than with people anyway. I appreciate your help. Do you think she would’ve gotten hysterical or something?” He looked at her, blinking his eyes, as if she were one of his creatures floating in a cylinder.  
Danse shrugged too. “I don’t know, Doctor. But a calm patient is surely better than an upset one.”  
We left and found the radio hut. Their radio woman, Augusta, called The Castle for us and we chatted with Franklin who would relay our love and the news of our delayed arrival back home to Shaun and our other people.  
We found Forquar in the outside restaurant seating, having a beer. We joined him and told him we would be flying over the Taconic range tomorrow. He said he would enjoy being our pilot again. The CSA was Forquar’s assigned base and he had quarters there. Danse and I took the guest quarters again.  
I slowly took off my clothes, one piece at a time, wanting Danse to watch me, and undid my braid slowly. I could feel his eyes on me even though I had my back to him. I unpacked my brush and began to brush out my hair. I felt his warm breath on my shoulder. “Let me,” he said, taking the brush from my hand.  
He took his time, seeming to be enjoying himself. Then his other hand lightly stroked my buttocks, in light, tickly touches. I tried to hold still, but it got to be too much tickle for me to bear it. I jumped a bit then turned to him.  
“She’s a beautiful woman,” I breathed as I turned around, my hair swinging and brushing both of our torsos. That tickled too.  
“What?” Danse looked at me, surprised, “You’re thinking about her right now?”  
“Never mind,” I said, embarrassed, “I guess I felt a little jealous, to be honest.”  
“Jealous? Z, you can’t be … look at me,” he said, his voice deep and commanding. “There will never be anyone for me besides you. Ever. You are … a part of me. The better part, actually. If it was just you and me and the children, in the entire world, I would be happy. That woman, Callista, she is a fine example of a woman, physically, I suppose. But you, to me are a hundred times more beautiful because I love you. You will always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Forever.”  
He pulled me closer to him and looked deep into my eyes. I was drawn into his deep, dark brown ones. Whatever he saw in them made him want to explain more fully.  
He spoke, his voice deep and low and intense, “I love you, and when I say those three words, they mean more than human language could ever impart.” He kissed me lightly then pulled back to look at me again, “Z, I need to bind myself to you in every way possible. I vowed myself to you when we wed, but it is not enough. When we make love, when you bring me to that highest point of pleasure that exists for a man, it is only then I feel like we barely touch that place where I long to go and stay, where we are bound together as one creature and still it not enough for me - yet it is more than either of us can conceive of.” He kissed me again, lightly again, and spoke intently, his hands stroking my shoulders to my wrists and finally taking hold of my hands, tightly, “How can I express what I want to say to you? It is too big to stay contained, this longing, this love, too powerful to just not make the earth tremble in our binding, our becoming one for those moments when time has been frozen, when we are removed from the limitations of our individual bodies and souls, and this had to express itself somehow - become corporeal - in a new creation - it created new life, or took on a life of its own: Hope and Harmony. They were made from our love. No greater thing could we have done than make those two precious lives born from our joining. So, when I tell you I love you, Z, it means all that and more.”

“Oh,” I said, blushing, “Oh, my heart. Danse, I love you. I think you put it quite well.”  
He started caressing me lightly, as if he were exploring my body for the very first time.  
Gooseflesh rose up everywhere his fingers traced and my nipples hardened and stood out boldly. Which made him pay attention to them next. He took his time in his exploration. “I love you, Z,” he said half a dozen times, for each part of me he made love to. Soon I was a puddle of melted mush under his hands. He gently lowered me to the bed and planted kisses, starting with my brow then going all the way down to my thighs, which he gently parted with his hands. I felt the caress of his tongue and I groaned with my growing desire. He suckled me and I almost cried out from the unbearable pleasure.  
Knowing all the sounds and motions I make when aroused he knew when to stop, to draw out my pleasure and then he mounted me, gently and slowly, bringing his gaze back to my eyes.  
We rolled over until I was sitting atop him, and it was my turn to explore and love him. I took my time, stroking and kissing every tendon, every muscle, in his well-defined form, from his shoulders to his toes. Then I teased his nipples with my mouth and tongue and teeth until he groaned, and then I went lower, taking him into my mouth, while I gently explored with my hands.  
He moaned, then rolled me over again, mounting me. “I need to be in you, now,” he hoarsely demanded.  
I took him in, where he belonged and it was like welcoming him home after a long journey.  
“Danse, please, harder, deeper,” I begged.  
He fulfilled my wishes and after holding back as long as he could, he thrust faster until my pleasure burst in me and flooded through me. That brought him to his climax, moaning my name.  
We fell asleep, damp with sweat from our lovemaking in each other’s arms.  
THE MORNING DAWNED clear but with storm clouds to the east.  
Forquar announced we had plenty of time as we were flying westward and the storm was moving slowly.  
Danse and I took Callista into town to get breakfasted and to get her outfitted. She drew every eye when she passed. She didn’t seem aware of it, though, which pleased me. If Arthur weren’t married, I would have tried to play matchmaker. If anyone could get his mind off me, it would be Callista. After breakfast, Danse went to meet Forquar and go over some maps to plan our journey. At the little outdoor restaurant, Christopher Fenn, the restaurant owner, fawned over Calllista and gave her her breakfast on the house – as a welcome to Jamaica Plain. Danse and I paid for our meals. I smiled and shook my head.  
I got her some sturdy travelling garb, and good soft, leather boots and long boot socks. I bought her a pretty blue dress too, for her to bring home with her and some blue slip on shoes. She ought to have something pretty to wear, I had decided. Then we went to the Armory, where Lyle and soon Carl were stumbling over each other to find goodies for her.  
“Can you handle a laser rifle?” asked Lyle, trying to keep his eyes on her face.  
“I can handle a pipe rifle. Is there much difference?” she asked smiling at him. He looked like he would melt into a pile of goo.  
“Actually, a laser rifle is easier to handle, and its generally lighter,” he said, bringing out a sleek, pretty rifle for her to try. “I’ve already adjusted the aim on this one at the range,” he assured her, “this baby will do the trick.” He was smiling goofily at her.  
“We’ll take it,” I said. I wasn’t made out of money, but in my travels I had found so many caches of caps with no home, that I had plenty to spare and could afford to be very generous.  
He then fitted her up with some lightweight polymer armor, which for all its lightness had ten times more protection than leather armor.  
I brought a case of fusion cells for her rifle and we were ready to go.  
The gentlemen looked rueful at our leaving. “Come back and visit sometime, Callista,” Carl called out after us.  
“I will, thank you, Carl. And thank you Lyle,” she called back, smiling sweetly at them both.  
Holy crap. This girl could have her pick of any man, excepting my Danse of course, that she had an inkling to have.  
We went into the CSA and found Dr. Virgil.  
“And how is my patient after being up for a few hours?” he asked, looking her over as a doctor would, not as a man.  
“I feel fine, Doctor,” Callista said, “the food tasted great and the nausea is gone. No headache. So tell me, what virus did I have and why can’t I remember how I got here?”  
I cringed, but she should know the truth. Danse took her hand in his. It didn’t bother me one iota.  
“You must’ve been captured by super mutants, Callista,” Dr. Virgil said matter of factly, “and instead of …. Well, they chose to give you the forced evolutionary virus that turned you into one of them. I just recently found a way to reverse the virus and Z brought you to me.”  
Her beautiful mouth opened, her eyes widened. She turned to look at me, panic in her eyes, then she found Danses’ eyes and she took the breath she had been holding.  
“How long … ?” she asked, softly.  
I answered, “We don’t know, Callista. But I’ve known you as a mutant for nearly four years.”  
“Oh,” she said softly. Her jade eyes began to fill with unshed tears. “Thank you, Z, for getting me here. I really want to go home, now.”  
Danse gave her a gentle hug and when she let herself be embraced, she shed her tears. After a short time, where Dr. Virgil was looking a little bewildered, she lifted her face, “I’m okay. Really. It’s just a shock, is all. Thank you all.”  
Danse patted her in a fatherly manner, and said, “Let’s get you home, Callista.”  
We climbed the several stories of the CSA and opened the door to the rooftop. Our vertibird with the Minuteman Insignia boldly painted on its doors waited for us.  
Callista sure enough took up a lot less room on a vertibird than Strong did.


	4. Death Has Come Knocking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "While time lasts there will always be a future, and that future will hold both good and evil, since the world is made to that mingled pattern."  
> Dorothy L Sayers

Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac. HENRY KISSINGER  
Chapter 4  
ON THE PRYDWEN  
Lady Kierra combed her hair looking at herself in the mirror in the Elder’s quarters. It had been over a year and three quarters. They had sex every single time she had her time of the month – when her body was fertile, according to Cade’s calculations.  
She was barren. She was convinced of that now.  
If there was no heir, the powers that be might convince Arthur Maxson to put her aside with their blessings to seek another who could provide the Brotherhood what they wanted.  
Yet there were already two heirs in existence. She would find a way to claim them for her own and solidify her position as the wife of the Elder. If she could get even just one of them into her own hands and adopt one for her own, Arthur Maxson would keep her.  
She liked being Lady Kierra. She liked the deference that was shown to her from every member of the Brotherhood. She liked the cozy quarters and the special meals and having only to make a request, and have it fulfilled almost instantly. She now had a closet full of lovely dresses, hair ribbons, jewelry and shoes that actually fit, as well as new, premium quality weapons and armor.  
She was not going to give all this up without a fight.  
Kierra knew how to fight.  
She already knew Maxson’s heart was not hers. She was there when Z came aboard and when he had her arrested. She was there when he came off the vertibird, carrying Z’s unconscious and battered form. She was there, watching them, as he wooed Z. When he looked at Z, a fire burned in his eyes. That look in his eyes – well - she had never seen that look directed at her.  
The way everyone had avoided him after he released Z to her home because he hadn’t wanted to let her go. He loved Z. Kierra knew that.  
It didn’t matter to her so much, though.  
Arthur was kind to her. He was unfailingly polite and he didn’t ask much of her. She honestly didn’t find sex a driving force for her. She tolerated it rather than hungered for it. As a young girl, she had to fight tooth and nail just to live. She had been hungry and angry all the time. She had had to put herself first in a dozen situations growing up; having to leave someone behind to die, so that she could survive. The Brotherhood saved her from her past life and this life, as Lady Kierra, was better than she could have ever imagined living. And she intended to keep it that way.  
She just had to find a way to get her hands on one heir or two. Arthur had told her the girls were to be sent to him when they were ten or so, to choose to join or try the Brotherhood, but she couldn’t wait that long. Besides, with Z and the synth raising those children, who knew what they were filling their heads with. It was a very poor decision on Arthur’s part, she thought. He allowed his feeling for Z to dull his thinking. She would help him, all the while helping herself in the process of rectifying his error.  
She just needed an opening, an opportunity to do so.

ON THE WAY TO PLEASANT VALLEY  
As we flew, Danse pointed out various landmarks for Callista, trying to gauge her knowledge of the area. She didn’t know the Commonwealth at all.  
I looked as we passed over Egret Tours Marina. They had new buildings and they had expanded their borders. They had more than recovered from the battle fought there last year. I saw a provisioner with her pack brahmin and the two guards making their way on the broken road below – she waved at us passing overhead.  
I smiled to myself. The ‘Wealth had become a safer place. A good place to live.  
We flew for fifteen or more minutes, and there were no more settlements to be seen in the far west of the ‘Wealth.  
The landscape began to look as though children had been rough-housing on loose brown-green carpet down there. The land was wrinkled into hills and low mountains, with dark, impenetrable ponds, lakes, and streams.  
Then we came to the state I used to know as New York, which now was referred to by the mountains that were closest. The Taconic range was the first one.  
Danse asked Callista to start looking for landmarks she recognized. She stared hard and scanned, and turned frustrated eyes to him, “I’ve never seen it from the air before,” she said ruefully.  
“Look, there’s a pond ahead that looks like an arrowhead, do you recognize that?” he asked, pointing.  
“Oh!” she said, with excitement in her lovely voice, “Yes! If you follow the tip of the arrowhead, it points to Pleasant Valley!”  
Forquar turned northwards, following her directions. He went lower and lower until it seemed we would start brushing the treetops.  
“There!” Callista cried out, smiling, as we passed a large tall rock that was shaped like a bear rearing up. “That’s yao guai rock! My home is just past that!” Immediately after, we came upon a large clearing.  
I gasped before I could stop myself. There were houses down there, but they were burnt out wrecks. Calllista saw too and she screamed out, “NO!” over the loud sound of our rotors and the wind.  
Forquar took our ‘bird down, and we climbed out to investigate. As soon as Callista alit, she took off running down a path that led to what might’ve once been a nice little cottage. The door lay on the ground, and the floor was littered with leaf fall and earth. A rabbit skittered out as she entered.  
She looked around, then wailed when she found a body, dead long enough to have most of its flesh rotted away. It was wearing a dress, and had some strands of auburn hair, streaked with grey.  
“Mother!” Callista cried out and then she crumpled to the ground and sobbed.  
I prodded Danse to go to her.  
He gave me a look, and I nodded. She responded best to him. I left him to stay with her in her grieving and went to go see if there were any clues as to when and what had happened and who did this.  
We walked, through the entire village and it was obvious that there were no survivors. This had been a good sized village at one time. The layout was snug but well plotted out. It looked like there had been a market or meeting place in the middle of town and the houses all radiated out, like the spokes of a wheel with their neat little plots. Weeds were growing where the fenced gardens used to be. The first body we came across was almost past the rotting stage. He was down to bones, with some tough dried skin or hair left, and rags. Not one of the three bodies we found had shoes on. But two of them had a hand or foot cut off – the bone showing the marks of swords or other weapons – not animal teeth. Torture? No children’s bodies and the corpses all had grey hair. Animals certainly could have carried off some of them. It implied that whoever had razed this little village had taken prisoners.  
Were we dealing with slavers? Or Super mutants? Feral ghouls? Did the attackers just increase their number by forcing their prisoners to join them or die? Or just take them to eat later on, if they were mutants. And if it were ghouls, there would be a strong source of radiation somewhere nearby if that general rule applied.  
Danse came out with an arm around Callista who had stopped crying. We stayed to bury the dead, using the camp shovel we had aboard the ‘bird, and one we had found in one of the burned out sheds, and Danse marked the graves with large stones.  
Callista was pale and silent.  
I asked her, as gently as I could, if there were other settlements that she knew of nearby.  
She nodded, and said, “Rocktown, to the north, Warren to the west.”  
“Let’s go see if we can find them,” I suggested, thinking it best we use our time wisely. This looked to have happened long enough ago, but if there was a danger out here near our borders, we needed to know. As soon as possible. If it weren’t something I felt we needed to investigate, I would bring Callista back first. She didn’t need any more shocks or horrors.  
Callista sat up front with Forquar and tried to guide him. We went north first.  
We came upon Rocktown in minutes. It was in the same state as Pleasant Valley. Forquar didn’t bother landing, but circled over it and then took our ‘bird higher.  
We flew westward and nearly missed Warren. It was near a quarry, and from above the whole area looked like a long splash of treeless gray.  
“There,” Callista called out, pointing, “to the east of the quarry.” We flew back over the area we had come from and saw it this time.  
Warren had fallen to the same fate as the other two. We landed, this time, to examine the town.  
Warren was larger than Callista’s village, and had several very large buildings, that had been refurbished and used as living quarters. Several plots had been cleared and probably had held bountiful crops. There were several smaller homes that were built with scavenged materials.  
There were only two corspes here, and both looked to be older people laying half in and out of the largest building. A few of the homes were untouched and although dirty and dusty, had little things out. A pot, a plate or two, a table and chairs, beds and even curtains on the little window. It had been someone’s home. By the number of seats and beds, there had been three people who lived there.  
It could’ve been one of our settlements. People I knew and cared for.  
We buried them too. We had brought the found shovel with us.  
Forquar looked at the sky, “We need to get back, or the storm will come upon us before we get back to Jamaica Plain,” he warned.  
I nodded. We would come back later to bury the dead at Rocktown.  
I asked Marcus Forquar to fly us back to fly over Arnette Valley, a village that had just recently joined us and now sent a representative to the Commonwealth Provisional Governments meetings. It was our westernmost settlement.  
“If we go now, yes, I would estimate anyway,” Forquar said frowning at the sky, which looked crystal clear to me, “that will only add minutes to our flight.”  
Danse met my eyes. We were both wondering where this group of men, feral ghouls or mutants had gone and if they were coming our way next.  
Then there was no conversation as the ‘bird started up noisily and lifted off.  
Danse, Forquar and I scanned the land beneath us, looking for traces of a large body of people or mutants travelling. We followed the main road, as there were no other way that lead for any distance.  
We saw nothing.  
Approaching the village of Arnette Valley, Danse called out to Forquar, “Marcus, is that smoke to our ten o’clock?”  
“Yes, Sir, it appears to be so. If we change course now, we are going to run into that storm sir. What do you want me to do?” he yelled back to Danse.  
“Check it out, Forquar,” I said, “We need to look.”  
Danse nodded his agreement.  
We all craned to look out the windows and the open door. It was too noisy for any talk that wasn’t necessary.  
I stole a look at our passenger who had lost everyone that meant something to her and her home. She was sitting, staring out the side window, her face frozen without expression. She could have been posing for one of the beautiful marble statues I used to admire from ancient Greece in Museum of Fine Arts.  
Strong was gone, Callista was here. And I adopted both of them. I would try to make Callista’s life a decent one if I could. She was one of mine now. To protect and care for.  
Danse glanced at me, and took my hand. His frown of concentration lightened for a moment as our eyes met. I swear he could read my mind, most of the time. He gave a slight nod and then went back to looking out the open door.  
As we rounded the hills, the little village appeared. My stomach sank and I felt fear crawl up my spine and I shivered from it. The smoke was from the buildings of the village burning. I didn’t see any human bodies, but there were a dozen slain brahmin in a good sized pen. That kind of senseless, wasteful slaughter didn’t make sense. Who had so much food that you would throw away a year’s worth of meat?  
I didn’t like this. Not one little bit.  
Danse was frowning fiercely. “Take it up higher, Marcus,” he ordered.  
The ‘bird started to climb, when there was a huge explosion, and the world turned upside down. I found myself hanging onto the open doorway over the earth, spinning dizzily. I couldn’t see anything because of the smoke and fire. The metal was growing hot under my grip and we were spinning even faster. My legs were hit by branches and it was like getting kicked by a horse. I lost my grip and fell.


	5. Captain Forquar

Chapter 5   
Marcus Forquar  
Marcus watched as Danse slipped away like a predator on the hunt, and disappeared into the woods, without a sound.  
Callista looked after him with fear and longing in her eyes. Marcus watched her face. For some reason, the look she gave Danse hurt his heart.   
He ran his hands through his thick, overly long blond hair, then rubbed his face. He shouldn’t be surprised at his own reaction. He had seen all eyes in Jamaica Plain turn to watch Callista with an irresistible physical interest – with the exception perhaps of Dr. Brian Virgil. Her beauty and so far, her decency was obvious. He wasn’t so surprised at her reaction, either. Danse inspired confidence and admiration from those who spent any time with him. He was everything he appeared to be. He was a born hero. The real thing.  
He had been worried after Zimmer had taken possession of Danse’s body and mind – that it wasn’t really Danse back in control – but after spending the next year working closely with him, that fear and doubt had melted away as if it never had existed. It was his Paladin. He loved the man and would lay his life down for him without hesitation. He followed his orders without question.  
He pushed his deep seated yearning for Callista away. He had learned to do that very well since becoming part of the Order of the Brotherhood of Steel. Most members of the Order were celibate or married, not much in between. Their belief was that you gave your life for the betterment of humankind, and you gave up distractions like pleasures of the body. He had been taught by his mentors that his concentration and focus in battle would be sharper if he abstained from sexual activity. Almost all Knights did abstain. Those that didn’t were either married or looked down upon by the rest.  
“We need to get to a settlement, and quickly,” Marcus whispered to her and gently took her arm, “I will protect you as best as I am able.”  
She turned those beautiful jade eyes to him, then, and his heart swelled. “Alright,” she whispered back.  
There had been no holding back Danse. He was going to find Z and he wanted Marcus to get Callista to safety and send reinforcements. He also wanted Marcus to notify the Minutemen and then the Brotherhood.   
“Protect her, Marcus,” was the last thing Danse had said to him, and he would do so if at all humanly possible.  
The three of them had gone down with the vertibird, which Marcus had managed to almost land they only fell the last several feet – very rough – but enough so that they survived. Z had fallen out the open door while they were still 80 feet in the air. Marcus didn’t know if she was alive or dead. Danse had taken a first aid kit, some water, and his rifle and Z’s and sent the rest of the supplies that had survived the missile strike with Marcus and Callista.  
Marcus held silent and listened, closing his cerulean blue eyes. He focused deeply, took several deep breaths, and began filtering out the harmless sounds, one by one. Birdsong, rodent, susurrus of the slight breeze rustling the leaves, all disappeared. A distant stream, all sounds he cast aside from his senses.  
Silence.  
The enemy were not within earshot.  
He then gauged the direction of the wind and the altitude of the low mountains and hills, and where sound would travel and bounce. Marcus had a built in compass in his genetic make-up and knew which direction to head easily.  
Taking hold of Callista’s cold hand, he guided her to a small radstag path and began to make the journey back east.   
They travelled quietly and at the fastest pace Callista could manage without stumbling until past dusk. Marcus made a primitive shelter with the tarp he had packed from the ‘bird and laid out two bedrolls, one to lay on, one to cover up with. He brought out meat and fruit jerky and water and divided it up into two portions.   
The moon was full and had a bright halo around it. Thin clouds drifted over it and then passed.   
“Sleep, Callista. I will keep first watch.” He looked carefully at her. She had been through so much already. He must keep her from being captured by whatever enemy had destroyed Arnette Valley, and perhaps her home as well. She looked tired and frightened, but she nodded and gave him a smile.  
“Wake me when it’s my turn, Marcus,” she told him firmly.  
“I will. Now get some sleep. We need to take it when we can.” He leaned back against an elm trunk and pulled his laser rifle out to hold on his legs. He heard her adjusting the bedrolls and heard her sigh, a deep sigh.   
It was quiet, except for the normal sounds of the woods. He heard Callista’s deep, regular breathing. Good. He had learned, as any soldier in the field to catch some sleep when he was able. He could sleep even when there was loud noises or battle, as long as he knew his comrades had his back. Marcus stood and stretched a few times and walked carefully around their makeshift shelter to keep awake.   
When he gauged it was about four a.m., he woke her. She was groggy, and sleepy, but she smiled at him again and asked for some water.   
He gave her another bottle of water then told her, “Wake me instantly if you hear anything your gut tells you is not right. Trust your instincts, Callista. Alright?”  
“Yes, alright. I will. Get some sleep yourself, Marcus.”  
His inner clock woke him just after sunrise. He got up, went and relieved himself a little distance away, after scanning the area again.   
Marcus split up another packet of dried food between them and more water. They ate quickly and she folded up her bedroll.  
“Um, Callista,” he said, rubbing his head uncomfortably, “Let me show you how to roll a bedroll so it can fit better in my pack.”  
She surprised him by laughing lightly, “I didn’t think it looked quite right.”  
He showed her step by step on one bedroll while she followed his directions and his example on the other one. Folding it in thirds, lengthwise, then rolling it up, kneeling on it to force out all the air, then tying it.  
“Fine job!” he proclaimed as he examined her roll.  
She smiled shyly and shrugged. “What about the tarp?”  
“Easy,” he told her and then showed her. He was pleased. She was a quick learner. She beamed at his praise.  
They started off again.  
Marcus was in excellent physical shape. He had kept up the strict inner discipline developed under the Brotherhood and put himself through a grueling daily regimen of exercise. He had to slow himself down significantly so that Callista would not exhaust herself trying to keep pace with him.  
After three or so hours, he had paused for her to come even with him. She was panting, “I know I am slowing you down, Marcus,” she said, trying to catch her breath.  
“And..?” he asked, looking at her, puzzled.  
“Well,” she said exasperated and tired, “You should go ahead. To get help for Z and Danse. The longer it takes you to get back, the more likely they are to be … well, they need support,” she added lamely, knowing that Z had to be hurt, and that who or whatever had shot down their vertibird would kill or capture them. Danse they would kill – he was too much of a threat. The two of them on their own, she shuddered if she thought too much on it.  
“His orders were to protect you, and I would do so even if he hadn’t ordered me to,” Marcus said firmly, frowning at her slightly.  
She raised her voice then, “But I am barely keeping up, Marcus! I have blisters and I don’t feel like I can go another foot today!”   
Marcus shrugged, took off his pack and bent down. “Take off your boots, put on my pack, and climb up,” he ordered.  
“What?” she cried.  
“On my back, Callista. I can carry you, believe me.” He gestured for her to hurry, “I should have done this sooner,” he shook his head.   
She unlaced her boots and Marcus frowned deeply at the relief in her face. He saw that her feet were badly swollen. The blisters had burst and their fluids had soaked her socks. She placed her foot into Marcus’ palm and he boosted her up. She wrapped her legs around his torso as he adjusted to her weight and shifted her to the most bearable position.  
He moved ahead going at a much faster pace than they had managed before, except that he had to watch for higher branches that might swipe at her. He went on, tirelessly until he stopped by a cold stream in the late afternoon.  
Gently, he lowered her down. “Soak your feet and then let me tend them,” he suggested as he split their rations and handed her a meal and water. He stretched and rolled his shoulders. “We should reach Somerville by late tonight or tomorrow morning if we camp,” he told her.  
“Please, let’s get there tonight, then,” she begged.   
He clucked like a mother hen as he peeled off her socks. He shook his head as he took in the broken blisters and the pus that had started to form in the wounds. He injected her with a stimpak and put a soothing cream on the open blisters. “You should have told me sooner,” he chided.  
“I’m sorry, Marcus,” she said helplessly, wringing her hands. Tears began to pool in her eyes.  
That wasn’t fair, Marcus thought. He had no defense against tears. Instinctually, he held out his arms to her and she came and let herself be enfolded in his powerful hold. The feel of her in his embrace broke down all the barriers he had erected for years in one incredible moment. Sitting by the stream, he pulled her into his lap.  
He spoke in a deep, soothing voice, “I’m sorry, Callista, I am so sorry. Here you were, trying to be brave for them and trying to keep going even though you must have been in agony, and here I am, scolding you for your selflessness,” he stroked her back gently.  
Instead of comforting her, it seemed to break down a barrier she had been holding up and she cried. She cried as if her heart were breaking. He didn’t know how what he said had made her cry more.  
Marcus held her tightly and let her cry until her tears finally dried up, and she was breathing in rough hitching gasps. Then he just held her and felt her fall asleep in his arms, her face in his chest, her breath warm and moist.  
He let her sleep for an hour. Part of it was for her, of course, but part of it, he had to admit, was for himself. To feel her body in his arms. To feel her sweet breath, her warmth on his lap. His body was stirring at her intimate position and he felt shamed. She had just found her family dead, her two new caretakers lost and she was frightened and alone.  
Except for me, he thought. Again he felt shame. He would never take advantage of her vulnerability.   
Also, his legs were going to sleep.  
Gently, he woke her, “Callista? Callista, we need to get moving again,” he said softly into her ear. She responded by snuggling into his chest and gripping his uniform, and wiggling her bottom to get more comfortable.  
To his horror, Marcus’ body responded instantly.   
Great steel! Hardened steel, in fact, embarassed. He shook her shoulders gently, and said her name louder, “Callista! Come, we must keep going!”  
Finally, her jade eyes opened and gazed into his. All he saw was her beautiful eyes, and her parted lips. He didn’t have the strength to stop himself. All his Brotherhood discipline disappeared in an instant. He lowered his wide, full mouth to her lips, and -- by Blood and Steel! -- her sweet mouth softened and received his.  
He heard the yao guai before it attacked.  
He whipped Callista behind him, and threw himself at the creature, needing only to protect Callista.   
“Marcus!” she cried and as he ducked the clawed paw that came down at him, turned enough to see his laser rifle flying to him through the air.  
He snatched it effortlessly, and began firing with a microsecond. The wounded yao guai, enraged, knocked him back with its body. It’s breath stank of carrion and rot.  
Marcus regained his balance almost instantly and kept up a steady stream of laser blasts, until the thing finally fell with a half uttered roar dying in its throat.  
“Marcus!” Callista cried running to him, “You’re hurt!” He looked down at himself, surprised. He hadn’t even felt the claws rake open his light armor and pierce his abdomen. He was also surprised at the amount of blood that seemed to be coming from him somewhere. He scanned his body and saw that his left arm had been clawed open and his brachial artery torn.  
He applied pressure immediately. “Callista, bring the first aid kit,” he said calmly as he lay down slowly, propping his feet up on a fallen trunk. He could not afford to lose consciousness.  
“Already have it,” she said, holding up the last stimpak. She injected him in the wounded arm and then with their water, she cleaned the stomach wound. She hissed when she saw it. He wondered if it had pierced his intestines or other organs. He hoped not. She used the ointment in the kit and got bandages out and ready.   
He could feel the stimpak knitting his wounds closed. He held the wound for a two minutes then, carefully, he released the pressure on his arm, and sighed with relief when no new blood appeared. Callista washed and applied the ointment on his arm and bandaged it.  
“Excellent field dressing,” he said, nodding. He looked at her serious face – no fear apparent there. He felt the warmth of pride for this woman rise from his heart to his face. He smiled.  
She favored him with a dazzling smile, and Marcus felt no pain at all. He stood then, and let her bandage his abdomen. Ruefully, he told her they weren’t going to get to Somerville by tonight.  
He took the time to reapply the cream to her feet and bandage them. He took the time to cut the loin meat, the most tender cut, from the yao guai and wrap it carefully. He packed them up, placed the pack on her back, then he hoisted her up and began to walk again, albeit at a slower pace than he had managed before.   
As he hiked, Marcus knew he needed to apologize for kissing her at such a time of stress and danger; when she was so vulnerable. It went against every chivalric bone in his body to take advantage of a woman. But no opening seemed the right time for such a conversation, especially, since she was on his back and he couldn’t read her face.  
He sighed and focused on forging ahead at the best pace he could manage.   
He only stopped after he had stumbled twice, because visibility was getting so poor. Callista helped him to set up their shelter. She was quick, he thought. She had watched and learned. He had her gather dead wood and he started a fire to cook up the tenderloin. The smell was mouthwatering after the dried fare they had been eating.  
They ate with their fingers, the juice from the succulent cut running down their fingers and chins. Callista was making delighted, “Mmmmmmms,” that caused his loins to heat up with wanting.   
He had to get control of himself.   
After they had cleaned up, Marcus told her he would take first watch again, but she insisted it was her turn and she was too wound up to sleep. She would not be argued with.  
He finally agreed after he made her promise that if she caught herself starting to doze she wake him immediately.   
So when the first rays of the sun woke him up, instead of Callista, the first thing he felt was fear for her. He sat up, grabbing his rifle and breathed out, when he saw her wide awake and watching him. He blew out a great breath and stood.  
“Do you think you can sleep while I carry you?” he asked her.  
“After you eat,” she said firmly. He shook his head. He had almost wished he could find some flaw in her to keep his heart in check, but she just kept getting better and better.  
She had his portion already laid out for him. He went to relieve himself, and came back and ate. This was as good a time as any, he thought.  
“Callista,” he said softly, “Thank you. For everything. And I wanted to apologize for … earlier, well ... for kissing you back there,” he could feel his face flush with uncomfortable heat.  
“You’re sorry?” she asked, for the life of him, looking hurt.

I’m not sorry for wanting to,” he tried to explain, feeling more tongue tied than ever in his life, “I just would never want to take advantage of you.”  
“Oh,” she said, searching his face, then she smiled at him. “I’m not sorry.”   
He was speechless. He realized his mouth was nearly hanging open, when she came to him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him full on his open mouth.  
Marcus was powerless in her hands. He groaned as he clutched her to him. She would feel his arousal and he didn’t care. The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring her, tasting her. She was a living aphrodisiac to him.   
It took every bit of his iron will to pull back from her, “Callista …” he murmured her name and it sounded like a promise of things to come.  
“I know, we have to move,” she said stroking his strong jaw with her fingers, “just don’t ever apologize to me for wanting me again.”  
“Alright,” he said, flushed and, “I won’t. I just thought… how you looked at Danse…”  
She smiled at him, shaking her head, “I don’t think of Danse in a romantic way. It’s more like I have never met someone like him in my entire life. It was more like awe. He’s a … hero, I don’t know. Strong. True. Brave. Besides, one look at the way Z and Danse look at each other, it would be … I don’t have a word, but, it would be evil to try to come between them,” she sighed, “Marcus, you too are a hero, a warrior. I have never met men like you two. The more time I spend with you, the more I want to,” Then she stared hard at him, “You aren’t taken, are you?” Those jade eyes suddenly looked alarmed.  
His head was spinning. “No. No, I am not. I was a Knight. There hasn’t been anyone for me for many, many years.”  
She smiled, “Good.” Then she kissed him again. Her full lips were warm and wet. She let her tongue slide into and gently explore his mouth. Her nose fit perfectly along his. He felt her long eyelashes on his cheek. He was instantly hard again and every cell yearned to join with her.  
She had mercy on him, and broke the embrace. “We need to get moving, don’t we?” she asked breathily.  
Hardened steel! He wished at that moment he was a painter who could capture this red haired beauty, with her lips shining and swollen from their kiss, her beautiful face flushed and her pupils dilated with desire. She was nearly too breathtaking for him to stop gazing at her.  
“Yes, we must,” he said, surprised at his own sensible sounding voice. “Let’s get you loaded up, lass and back up on me.” He ignored the ache in his loins, pushing it down with mental conditioning.   
As he hiked, trying to keep a good, steady pace, although it caused pain with every step. Marcus could not help but be very aware of her body on his, and the fact that her thighs were spread across his torso and her groin pressed up against his back, moving up and down with the steady pace he kept. Steel and Iron! He felt as if he soiled her by such thinking. He tried to focus instead of what actions he must take when they reached Somerville Place, which gauging by the sun’s location in the sky, they would reach in about two hours. Surely, the beautiful woman would come to her senses after she recuperated physically and emotionally, anyway. He was more than likely her instinctual response to cling to the strongest male available to protect her.   
Still, he decided, selfish or no, he would not turn her away if she continued the pursuit. He would just not instigate it. That would have to satisfy his sense of honor. He just wasn’t strong enough to resist what he felt for her, and with every moment he spent with her, the feeling only grew more powerful.  
They reached Somerville Place around noon. Marcus half expected to see destruction when they came through the wooded hill and saw the settlement. Instead, there was peaceful, busy activity and they were seen almost instantly and hailed by a watchman.  
Marcus waved and called a greeting. Several settlers started towards them. Soon, hands helped Callista down and the settlement medic was called when Marcus told them Callista needed tending.  
Marcus remembered the leader here was Juan Rodriguez. “Please, bring me to Mr. Rodriguez,” he said, “I need to use your radio as well.”


	6. Ravagers

CHAPTER 6   
THE RAVAGERS  
Bain took his pleasure, he did not ask for it.  
The latest captives brought to him for his perusal were a sorry lot. Yes, they had been cleaned up, dressed in the attire he demanded they be presented to him, but not a one was what he was looking for. These women were work hardened, and weary. Their bodies were too thin and wasted, or too old for his tastes. No young boys at all. No young ones at all.  
Spitting off to his side, his scarred, rugged face scowled at his men who brought him such poor bounty. He swept his powerful hand down violently and his Ravagers guided the captives out, who would now be sold at his slave market. There would be no rewards for his Ravagers today.  
Disgusted, he called for his current favorite to be brought to him. She would not be replaced today either.  
Bain looked forward to the First Swarm which he expected back in a week. He had sent them out after hearing the rumors that there was riches and plunder to their east – towards the coast. If his Ravagers came back with good news, he would gather such a swarm that no one would be able to withstand them. He would lead them himself. The east would fall before him. Fall on their knees. His name would be Death to them or Master. One or the other.  
He had taken all the territory within a hundred miles in all directions. It was time to expand. He had his Ravagers and his slave run farms and industries. His empire was ripe to grow.

I WOKE UP AND WISHED I HADN’T. The pain coming from my hip and leg and arm was overwhelming. I felt around with my undamaged arm for my pack or my rifle. They must’ve torn loose in my fall through the treetops. It was not anywhere near me that I could see. I always carried stimpaks and a rudimentary first aid kit when we travelled. I really, really, needed a stimpak now.  
I wasn’t going to get very far in this condition. I took in my surroundings, and scanned the sky for telltale smoke, which would give me the location of the crashed ‘bird. I didn’t see any. I moaned as I tried to sit up, and the pain rose like a monster consuming me from the inside out. I passed out from the pain.  
It was fresh pain that woke me again. I was being dragged by my feet. The agony was too much and I gratefully went into the darkness that beckoned me.   
My head bumped over rock and I said, “Ouch!” grouchily and groggily. I was in the dark and the cool hardness of rock surrounded me.  
“Shhh,” said a whispering voice, “I have to get you in deeper. They are still out there.”  
I tried to help move myself and found that I could. My leg and arm had been splinted. Once my whisperer had deemed us deep enough, she released my foot, and, I saw, a child released the other one. My eyes adjusted to the very low light. All I saw were their eyes at first which looked like they were glowing in the dark, until I realized they were both smeared with mud to darken their skin.   
Their size, height; these were children. Children who had rescued me.  
“I’m Etta, and this is my brother Nemo,” the young girl said as she came to sit by my head. “We heard a ruckus and I slipped out. You were just outside our cave. The raiders are still out there, though, so I fixed you up as best as I was able and brought you in here.”  
She had missed a spot under her chin, which glowed whitely. Her voice was shaky with fear.  
“I’m Z,” I said, “thank you. You make good field splints. You are one brave young woman, Etta.”  
“You’re Z?” she asked her eyes wide, “The Z? The Presider?”  
“Yes, yes…Etta, did you see where the vertibird went down? I had three companions with me.”  
“No, I dared not go far from our cave. They are still out there.” The fear was back in Etta’s voice.  
“You’re from Arnette Valley?” I asked.  
She nodded. The look of desolation in her eyes let me know she didn’t believe her people escaped.  
“Did you get a look at the attackers?” I asked, my own fear wanting to close up my throat. I swallowed it down and hid it away. This girl was living a nightmare that no young girl should have to cope with.   
“There are so many of them,” she began. “I couldn’t even count them. They all have marks, tattoos or something – all over them and they are … warriors. They burned Arnette and I heard screaming. They are fast. Faster than we were. I don’t know if anyone got away.”  
“I had a pack, with stimpaks and other things,” I said, “did you find it?”  
She shook her head and so did Nemo, who hadn’t spoken a word yet.   
“I really, really need my pack,” I said, more to myself than the girl and her brother. It also had the homing beacon and small communicator I always carried with me. Damn. I needed to find Danse and Marcus and Callista. I prayed they survived the crash and hadn’t been killed or captured by these raiders.  
I heard the sound of voices drift our way and we all froze. I held my breath and hoped Etta had not left a trail to the mouth of the cave. Those voices were not my people. They were rough, guttural voices, barking at one another.  
The voices came closer and were suddenly echoing inside the cave.  
I motioned Etta and her brother to flee, deeper into the cave. Grabbing her brother by the hand, Etta pulled him away, into the darkness of the cave, which became smaller as it went further.  
My rifle was gone too. I slipped my combat knife out with my left hand, because the right one was useless.  
They came around the bend in the cave, bending over – the cave’s ceiling wasn’t more than 5 feet high.  
They were squinting, and feeling their way along the cave wall. I forced myself to lunge, using my good leg for leverage. I cut the back of one’s heel and felt my sharp, sharp blade slide through the leather and slice through the Achilles tendon. He went down, losing his balance and I slit his throat. His hot blood gushed out, and sprayed over me.  
The other lifted some kind of club and swung down at me. I tried to twist out of the way, but I wasn’t fast enough.   
I saw bright light, felt a blast of agony and that was all I knew. Blackness had claimed me again.  
I dreamed I was on a ship, and it was rocking gently on the waves. I heard voices calling out in rough calls to each other.  
Coming awake, I became aware of Etta and Nemo, sitting in a large, rocking box with holes for air drilled into it. We were being transported somehow. The cries were crows or other large birds calling to one another. We weren’t bound and we were on large pillows and cushions with blankets laid out.   
I had been given a stimpak. My bones had knitted. The splints were off.  
“The ones who attacked your village?” I asked, fairly sure of the answer already.  
Etta nodded. Nemo was silent, his large eyes wide with fear.

“I have to pee,” I said, and knocked on the box side loudly, “I need to relieve myself!” I yelled loudly.  
I was surprised when the box was lowered almost immediately, and the top was pried off with what looked like a crow bar.  
Three fierce painted, tattooed and pierced faces glared at me, and offered me a hand out. Etta and Nemo were lifted out as well.   
The two men and one woman had their hair cut very short. The men’s face paint was dark around their eyes and cheekbones and chins. The woman and one man had a dozen piercings through their eyebrows, bottom lips and noses. They could be quills of a porcupine or something like that. They were all muscle and wore very little except some leather armor protecting their soft parts. The woman had on boots, but the men were barefooted. Etta was right. There were armed men and women all around us, and I could not see the beginning or the end of them.  
The dark-eyed, black haired woman was a fierce looking female with pierced eyebrows and large black diamond shapes painted over her eyes, from brow to chin. She buckled a collar around my throat and clipped what looked like a leash onto it. “Do your business and give no trouble,” she hissed, “We don’t want to hurt you, but we will if we have to.”  
The two men did the same to the children. It was mortifying, but at least they let me squat behind a shrub and relieve myself in relative privacy.   
When I tried to delay, to try and get the collar off, I was tugged hard by my leash holder. I almost fell over from the violent yank of the leash. I stood and allowed myself to be led back to the box. One of the men lifted me easily and put me in, and the children were placed back in as well. The woman handed us bottles of water and some kind of bread, and then the top was placed back on and hammered back into place.   
I decided then and there that I would never, ever put a leash on Dogmeat or any other dog.   
Etta looked at me with wide eyes, as she held her brother’s hand, and eyed the water and bread, “Why are they taking care of us?”  
I didn’t want to frighten her any more than what she had had to endure already. To me, from their perspective I saw a young, attractive woman and two children who could be sold as slaves, either for sex or labor or both, or trained as recruits, and forced into their army, but I thought the former was more likely. Younger women and children didn’t make the most efficient laborers not the best soldiers.  
So, I shrugged, “I’m not sure,” then I asked Etta about herself.   
“We have 18 people in Arnette,” she said, “Nemo and I are the only children there. My mom, Jacquetta, is our healer. She was growing those seeds you sent. She loved them so much. I gathered wild plants for her and hunted small game. Every one of us were glad to be part of the Commonwealth. Mr. Griffith, you met him? He came to your government meetings, right?” she was speaking very quickly, probably a reaction to the fear.  
“Yes, Dale Griffith, a nice man. A good man,” I said, remembering. “You were building a saw mill, right?” I massaged my healed leg. It was still throbbing.  
“Yes, from the plans from your engineer,” Etta agreed, “It was nearly done.” She took a deep sucking breath and looked to her brother, “Right, Nemo?”  
Her brother sat, wide-eyed and silent. She pulled on his arm, “Nemo? Are you ever talking again?” Etta’s eyes teared up as she stared at her brother.  
He gave her no response. I patted Etta’s arm. “He is trying to cope, Etta,” I explained carefully, “When we’re safe again, he’ll get better.”  
Etta swallowed and looked back to me, “Safe again? You think we can get away?” There was trust as well as fear in her eyes.  
I smiled at her, “My Danse is coming. We will escape when he gets us out. We just have to survive until he does.”  
“You sound so sure,” Etta said frowning.  
“Because I am sure,” I said firmly, “He is coming and these degenerates will be dead.”  
“Good,” Etta said softly, and then she tore into the bread, and ripped off a hunk for Nemo who didn’t make any move at all. She left it in his unresponsive hand and ate her own piece.   
I ate, too, although I had no appetite. I needed to keep up my strength to be ready when Danse came. I drank the water and then poured a few drops into Nemo’s mouth. It dribbled back out.   
I sighed. He had gone somewhere away from danger – deep within himself. I only hoped it wasn’t too deep for him to resurface one day. I thought that maybe Dr. Valerie Amari could help him by bringing his good memories to the forefront of his mind.   
I just had to get him to her.  
“Let me tell you about The Castle,” I told Etta, “and you try to sleep if you can.” I began to describe The Castle in a low, soothing voice to the children. I told them about Shaun and Hope and Harmony. Then the story of finding Wilhemina, Dogmeat’s wife, and their puppies, including Geri and Freki, the two Shaun kept for his own.  
I described Preston Garvey and Captain Marcus Forquar and the Minutemen. Then I told them about the synths that lived there – Danse, Curie, Berenger, Admina, Feronia and Weslyn. I described how hearts and minds were changing slowly in the Commonwealth when it came to synths and ghouls.   
I stopped when I saw that Etta had indeed fallen asleep. I covered her up with one of the soft blankets, and Nemo too, although he hadn’t moved. Then I curled up and pulled up a blanket and went to sleep too.  
The travel was endless. Days went by. I could tell when there had been a successful hunt, because we got meat on those days. They let us out when we needed to relieve ourselves, and I used the opportunities to observe as much as I could. By the location of the sun every time I was out, I ascertained we were going almost due east. It was the fifth day of being in the box.   
It wouldn’t take long for vertibirds to reach us, but they would have to find us first.   
Etta and I got to know each other very well. She was independent, smart, brave and proud. She and Shaun were the same age. If her mother was dead, I would ask her to come home with us. We would take care of Nemo too.  
I told stories every night to ease the stress and keep her mind off her fear. I hoped that some part of Nemo heard me too.  
I told the tale of Strong the super mutant becoming the disarming beauty, Callista. Then the sweet stories of Deacon and Curie’s and Admina and Frank’s romances. I described dear Annie and her cookbooks. I told them about Mayor John Hancock and how he when he found the museum coat of the Founding Father John Hancock and put it on, it changed his life. I told the brother and sister about Nat, a little older than Etta, and her sister Piper, the intrepid reporter of Diamond City. And of course about the boy, Billy Peabody, in the refrigerator and his happy reunion with his parents after 210 years.  
I kept the stories upbeat and cheerful. They all had happy endings.   
I was running out of stories by the end of the first week. I needn’t have concerned myself about that, because the next morning, we were taken out of the box and led away.  
We were in a town or small city, somewhere I would guess in New York or Canada. I could be wrong, but that was my best guess. It hadn’t been hit as badly as the coast. There was less damage.  
It looked like an old brick courthouse or some other large county or state building with a domed roof that we were led to. It was in fairly decent condition and had been patched up where the walls had not withstood time and war. I was led down two flights of stairs, and then three men took me into one room, and Etta and Nemo were separated into two more rooms.   
They left me there, and locked the door behind them. There was a decent bed, and a bathroom, that apparently even had running water. Maybe these people weren’t the barbarians I had judged them to be.  
In less than an hour, someone unlocked the door. Three females came in. One was different. The other two were like the warriors we had been captured by. The third was a plump, feminine woman clothed in draping material, with jewelry and make up and her dyed maroon hair in an intricate up do with curls hanging down in attractive disarray. She carried two large bags with her.  
“Well, well, well,” she said in a sing-song voice, “What have our Ravagers found! A treasure! Yes, indeed! Let’s get you cleaned up for Dominus Bain, my dear. He wants to meet you, he does.”  
“Who is this Dominus Bain?” I asked, hoping she remained as chatty and open as she sounded now.  
“Oh my pretty golden one, he is the ruler of us all! He will be the ruler of the world one day. His power grows and his arm reaches long. Don’t you fret now. He can be merciful to those who are obedient to him. Any by the looks of you, my dear, you may become his favorite for quite a long time. Now, let’s get you ready for him.”  
“I am a married woman, with three children,” I protested, already knowing it would do no good.  
“Three!” the woman clapped her hands together, “Oh! My! A fertile beauty! His Dominance will be pleased indeed!”  
“I will not submit to him,” I said firmly, frowning at her, “Would he take me by force?”  
The woman suddenly looked afraid, “Now, now, Gold One, don’t talk like that. Please. You don’t want to stir up his wrath. It will go badly for all of us. The children, especially.”  
“He would hurt you? Or the children?” I asked angrily.  
“Yes,” she said simply. “Now, let me get to work. Please. You may call me Feather.” She turned to one of the warrior women, “Please start the bath, nice and hot.”  
I submitted to Feather’s assault and was cleaned thoroughly and examined closely by her.   
She hummed and commented on my fine body and lovely, fine fat derriere and full breasts. Then she dressed me in a sheer, golden gown that hid nothing. She spent the next two hours on my hair, which she kept complimenting and oohing and ahhhing over and then she put on more make up then I have ever put on in my life. Finally, she added gold dangly earrings and a beautiful necklace that had a large teardrop gem that nestled between my breasts. And golden slippers that didn’t fit well at all.   
This was ridiculous. But I didn’t want the children harmed. Where was Danse?  
Finally, Feather declared I was ready to meet the Dominus. The two women warriors, Ravagers, as Feather named them, opened the door and two male Ravagers stood ready. Feather released me to the four of them.  
“Be careful, Gold One, and don’t anger him,” Feather pleaded before she turned and left us.  
The stupid slippers made it so I had to shuffle along, but I didn’t think my captors would be very pleased if I kicked them off like I wanted to, so I put up with it for now. Up three flights of stairs, and then I was brought into what had probably been the mayor’s office or whatever official had ruled there.   
The man I assumed was Dominus Bain was standing by the window looking outward. He turned and I felt a shudder of dread travel up my spine. His eyes were cold and ice blue. His mouth hard. A long scar ran from above his eyebrow down to his upper lip, giving him a permanent sneer. He was built like a bull, with a powerful torso, broad shoulders and shorter but heavily muscled legs. He wore very little, like most of his Ravagers. His hairy chest was bare, and he wore a short tunic with a wide belt. His white hair was receding and he had seen a lot of sun.   
His voice was deep and penetrating.  
“Finally,” he boomed, “My Ravagers have brought me a prize worth taking!”   
His Ravagers bowed deeply and stood back, leaving me to stand like something to be auctioned off.   
“My Dominator,” one of the female warriors said, keeping her head down in a show of submissiveness, “Feather wished me to tell you she is proven fertile.”  
His white eyebrows rose, and his eyes widened. “A prize indeed,” he murmured. He came close then and walked all around me.   
My stupid gown was sheer, and I might as well have been naked, still I kept my head held high and showed no expression.  
He reached out with one finger and brushed my nipple, which responded to the touch. Stupid thing. Then he cupped a buttock and squeezed. I felt like a heifer at market.  
Then he faced me again and studied my face. “Eyes like the far away tropical seas, and hair like the sun,” he murmured. “Lovely mouth,” he reached up to touch them. “Does she have her teeth?” he asked. I held very still. I had to get the children out alive and unmolested.  
The same woman answered, “Feather says she has all her teeth and she is in very good health, all over. She is not diseased in anyway and her woman parts are perfect.”  
“I am pleased. Tell Feather, I am very pleased. Bring her to my chambers, now and show me my other treasures.” He turned his back to me, dismissing me, and the woman who had done all the talking took my arm gently and led me out.   
She led me to his chambers, which were lush and comfortable. A huge bed took up most of the space. She stayed with me while the other guards left and locked the door behind them.  
The other treasures.  
Dear God, please let him not like children. Please, God, not little boys.


	7. Escape

I tried to engage my guard in conversation, but for being the spokesperson of our little audience with Dominus Dick, she was awfully close mouthed now.  
Her dark eyes were flat and uncaring. Her mouth turned down in a scowl.  
I kicked off the stupid, floppy, golden slippers and paced. Finally I turned to her and tried again, “What’s your name? Mine is Z.”  
She glanced at me, with no change in expression, then turned her face away, disdainfully.   
I closed the space between us in an instant, and my fist shot out powerfully, and hit her in the temple. Perfect. She went down without a peep. I shook out my hand and kissed it. I sensed someone watching. I whipped around and outside the French doors that led to a small balcony, a man was watching. A big man. One of Bain’s Ravagers from the looks of him – except that he was built with perfect proportions and in fighting shape. He was breathtaking.  
He lifted a strong leg and kicked the doors open. Something broke, and he strode in like he owned the place. Oh my. My eyebrows rose, for a Ravager he was built like …  
Danse.  
He was dressed as one of them, and his face was painted too. No piercings, thank the heavens.   
“Sorry it took me so long, Z,” he said, pulling me close and kissing me. He pulled back and added, “I am not going to ask you why you are dressed like a palace concubine, but I have to ask – did anyone touch you?”  
In other words, who did he have to kill today? “No one,” I said grinning at him, my lips tingling pleasantly, “but I have to find the two Arnette children who were with me. I can’t leave them here.”  
I heard the door open and I spun around. Four guards herding Nemo and Etta ahead of them entered. Danse and I were on them before they knew what had happened. Danse killed his targets, while I just rendered one unconscious. Not on purpose, Danse is just stronger than me.  
Etta was dressed similarly to me, hair done up and make-up and all, and Nemo was in a furred, belted tunic that left his little chest bare. He had on a touch of make-up too. My stomach tightened. I had to adjust my expression for the children.   
“Well, that was easy,” I said, shaking my head, cascades of curls coming undone. I undressed the unconscious guard, and took what little clothes she had and her leather armor. They were an improvement over what I had on, although a lot skimpier than I was used to. At least her boots fit me. I introduced Danse to Etta and Nemo.  
Etta gazed up at Danse and smiled, “Danse?” she asked, and added with awe in her voice, “You did come.”  
“Of course,” he smiled at her. She beamed. “Now, let’s get out of here,” he said and scooped up Etta and motioned for me to pick up Nemo.  
He led us out to the balcony. He put Etta on his back and scaled the wall down. I watched carefully where he found his toe and finger holds, but I wasn’t sure I could do it. I needn’t have worried. He planted Etta down behind a large green shrub and climbed back up for Nemo. Her eyes were wide as she saw the two bodies of Ravagers tucked under the bush.   
Nemo was more of a problem because he had vacated the premises and wouldn’t hang on or follow directions.   
Danse held him with one arm, and climbed down as if it were effortless. I threw a leg over the balcony rail and tried to find the tiny bit of ledge that he had used. I swung the other leg over too, and found the tiny ledge and then I went to the side, to grip the lower sill of a window.   
Before I got two feet lower, I was scooped up by my Paladin, and carried the rest of the way down, draped over his shoulder in a fireman carry. He patted my butt playfully when we reached the bottom.  
We all crouched behind the bush, with the two corpses. Danse scanned the area. “You three stand out like a light in the darkness,” he said, thinking.   
“We could be your prisoners,” Etta suggested, “and just walk out in the open.”  
“By myself, I managed to not have anyone look too closely at me, but they would look twice if I was escorting prisoners and would know I am not one of them,” Danse said frowning. He knew as well as I did that he stood out in any crowd. He was bigger, stronger and healthier looking than any of the Ravagers I had seen. Plus he wasn’t decorated with porcupine quills sticking out of his face.  
Etta nodded solemnly.   
“Come,” he said finally, “and try to keep a low profile.” He gave me a look. Yes, from the neck up I knew I looked like a golden tart from a Vegas or a strip show. I shrugged. He took Nemo over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, as if he weighed nothing.  
We went from bush to tree, to outbuilding, to boulder, following Danse’s hand signals. There was at least one body at each spot. Sometimes three. Several had their necks broken, then slit with a knife. We were crouched behind a tool shed when the uproar started from the domed headquarters of the Dominus.   
Danse had taken out at least dozen of their men on his way to retrieve me. There were probably more in other places. Dominus Bain would not be pleased. I smiled.  
My wicked smile faltered as I wondered where the other captives bound for slavery were being held. There was so much we didn’t know. According to Feather, Bain was extending his domain. He was obviously looking towards the east. Towards the ‘Wealth.   
All our hard earned progress, all our new found safety was threatened by this megalomaniac and his barbaric Ravagers. They destroyed what could be useful and good – like the new saw mill and the slaughtered brahmin.   
We had to stop them.   
We finally reached some sheltering woods that bordered the small city or town and began to travel more quickly away from our hunters. Danse still carried Nemo, and then he had Etta climb up onto his back. She was barefoot and the sheer gown she wore offered no protection whatsoever.  
Danse led the way through bramble and brush, and then had us walk through a stream to disguise our passage. We walked for hours. Finally, we came to a beautiful, tall waterfall that dropped down into a deep gorge, and Danse led me up a slippery path that turned into a narrow ledge that led behind the waterfall, into a cave. I never would have seen it.   
“I found this place when I was trailing you,” he explained. “I left a few supplies here.” While he brought out wild carrot roots and maize and a bit of cooked meat, I tended to Etta and Nemo. I should have grabbed something for us to cover up with, I thought ruefully. Her sheer gown was useless and already torn and Nemo’s torso was bare.   
Luckily, Etta and I had been fed fairly well and we weren’t starving. Nemo, on the other hand, was not looking good.   
Danse took the boy in his lap and gave him some cooked meat, “Eat,” he ordered in a strong, command.  
I was shocked when he started to chew the food.   
I looked at Etta, “I guess it took a man’s touch, eh?”  
She gaped in awe, “I don’t care why – I’m just glad he’s eating!”  
When Danse gave him a bottle of water and ordered him to drink, he obeyed silently. Well, I guess Nemo wasn’t going to die of dehydration or starvation at least.  
Etta gazed at Danse, hero-worship evident in her eyes. Then she turned to me, “That horrible man, the Dominant or whatever – he kissed Nemo! It was so gross! It looked like he was eating his face. Why would he want to kiss a little boy, Z? And he touched me – all over! He asked me if anyone had touched me before. It seemed important to him. I was so scared – and the lady who dressed me up told me not to get him mad or he would hurt you and Nemo, so I just stood there – like a coward. I didn’t protect my brother.”   
“Etta, focus on the fact that we’re out of there, and together we’ll protect Nemo now. I did the same thing you did – let him look me over like a prize brahmin – because they told me he would hurt you too. There’s no shame in what we did.”   
She nodded, swallowing. I took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ve got each other’s backs, Etta.”  
“Yes, we do,” she said firmly and looked at me, “We do,” repeated with strength in her voice.  
I liked this girl. I hoped her mother, Jacquetta, still lived. She had done a fine job raising this daughter. I felt a deep, painful longing for my own children. I had thought I was going away for one night – it had been a week and we were still a week away from home.  
The children had no shoes, and the boots I had taken were causing blisters on my heels and ankles. It might be longer than a week if we were all hobbling.   
Danse had laid Nemo down to sleep and came to me. “I knew I should’ve brought my power armor,” he groused.  
“Sorry, you’re right,” I smiled wryly, “But it wouldn’t have helped you sneak around and find us, would it have?”  
“I just would’ve left it here and had it for the journey back,” he said, exasperated.   
“True,” I said smiling at him, “But Danse, you do quite well without it, you know.”  
“If a person has a good tool at their disposal and it makes them 10 times more effective, would you tell him or her to do their work by hand?”   
I threw up my hands, “I give up! No, of course not. I am sorry we didn’t bring it too.” Danse loved his power armor and there was no way that was going to change. Honestly, if I wanted to get Danse in the mood, all I had to do was work on my armor, or add a mod to my weapons; he liked me all armored and weaponed - sweaty and greasy from gun oil and lubricant. Me in my armor made Danse happy.  
In reality, for all the practice he made me do in my armor, I missed mine too. I wouldn’t be dealing with blisters and scratches and cuts all over me from the brambles. And we would be able to carry the children easily and quickly. But the fact was we didn’t have it and we had to do without, so dwelling on it was more than useless.   
“Why don’t you let me clean your rifle,” I suggested, smiling. He liked watching that too.  
“Thank you,” he said handing me his rifle named Justice. It was a gorgeous laser rifle with extreme range and accuracy. I cleaned it lovingly. Danse watched, distracted from re-packing up his meager supplies. If there weren’t children here, he would be all over me.  
He went out scouting later, leaving us in our cavern-behind-the-fall.  
Danse was still gone after a few hours. I tended Etta’s and Nemo’s scratches and cuts and got Nemo to eat and drink some more. He surprised me when he stood and said after fidgeting, “I have to go pee.”   
Etta gave me a happy grin and I gave her a thumbs up.  
I took a peek outside our cave and decided it was safe enough. I led him to the outer ledge and he urinated over the edge. I held onto the back of his tunic as it was pretty slippery out there. We went back in and we both were wet from the splash of the water pouring down in front of us. I smiled at Etta, “Mission successful, soldier,” I said.  
Etta grinned back, “Good job, Nemo!”   
Nemo gave her a look that said he didn’t appreciate the fuss.  
“Why don’t you try to nap,” I suggested, “We’re going to be travelling at night, I think – all night.”  
“Okay,” Etta agreed, “that would be the wisest thing to do.”  
Etta and her brother lay down on the bedroll and covered up with the other. When I heard their breathing deepened and knew they both slept, I allowed myself to feel the worry I had been hiding away. I went and stood on the ledge and edged around to the farthest part so I could see beyond the waterfall. Nothing.  
I waited.  
It was dark when I heard the sounds of footfalls. More than a few. I felt instant alarm, and said a quick prayer that they wouldn’t find us. Poor Nemo was just coming out of his withdrawal from reality. I didn’t figure Bain would be pleased with us for escaping his realm. And what had happened to Danse?  
I went and stood by the still sleeping children with my plasma rifle that Danse had so thoughtfully brought with him. I bent down and shook Etta’s shoulder, and put my finger on my lips and pointed toward the opening of the cave. She came awake instantly and took hold of the knife that Danse had left for us. She left Nemo asleep.  
Holding my breath, I listened. Damn. Someone was coming. I could hear the squish of a shoe on the puddled rock ledge.  
I readied my rifle.   
“It’s me,” Danse called out as his silhouette came into view at the mouth of the cave.  
“You’re not alone,” I said, not lowering my rifle.  
“I brought friends,” he said.


	8. New Friends

Danse’s tone of voice told me he was safe and we could trust these new friends. I lowered my rifle, and turned and nodded to Etta, who blew out a breath of relief.  
Two men came into our little cave. They were clothed in animal skins and furs. Their hair long and tangled. One was built like a bear, the other slight and bony.  
“These are Wildlings,” Danse introduced, “Hut and Kay, this is my wife Z, and the children are Etta and Nemo.” The first man, Hut, was a huge man. The second, looked like a scrawny teenager next to him.  
Danse, looking tired and worn, turned to me, “They know a safe way around the Ravager’s territory. It will take us out of our way, but they know it’s safe. They have avoided the Ravagers for years. They have offered to guide us for payment in foodstuffs, weapons and ammo.”  
I took in the Wildlings’ appearances as best I could with my night vision and the dark of the cave. They definitely matched their name. They were clothed in roughly tanned hides and furs, including their footwear which was just hides tied with sinews and leather strips to their feet. Hut had a helmet made from a yao guai’s head. Hut’s nose had been broken at least once and had healed crookedly. It wasn’t unappealing on him. Kay wore headgear with antlers attached.   
They were both bearded – and I mean bearded. Hut’s beard was even braided, and both their mustaches had grown long enough to disappear into their long beards. These men had never seen a pair of scissors or a razor.  
They carried bows and spears. They came right up to Etta and me and stared at us, hard. I saw one, Hut, the bear-like, I thought, turn his head and look at the still sleeping boy. The youngest male, Kay, the thin one, reached out curiously to touch my hair. I held still while he let one of my curls twine through his fingers. “How come you are so … soft?” he asked in wonderment, as one finger gently reached and touched my cheek. There was nothing but curiosity in his eyes, so l allowed it.   
I smiled at him, “I live in strong shelters,” I explained, shrugging.   
He watched my shoulders, as if I had given him confusing body language. He tilted his head to one side and then another, then stepped back. “I am sorry if I have given offense,” he murmured, ducking his head.  
“Not at all,” I replied, smiling to add veracity to my words. He smiled back, broadly, and I saw he had a full set of teeth. A good sign that their lifestyle was reasonably healthy. At least a smile wasn’t considered a baring of teeth at one’s enemy.   
Hut grunted, frowning. “We must go and quickly. The evil ones are swarming everywhere. Their leader is mad with fury. Your mate told us of your escape. This has not happened with the Ravagers before.” He shifted from foot to foot, anxiety showing, “Come, and follow and go as quietly as you are able.”  
Danse nodded at me and I gathered up our meager supplies, while he went and gently woke Nemo, who gave Danse a sleepy smile as he came awake, then immediately looked fearful as he took in the fierce looking men in our hideaway. Danse spoke softly to him, and I could see his little shoulders relaxing. I felt my lips turn up in a smile and my eyes teared up.  
Soon we were out of the cave, down past the slippery rocks, and walking along a very narrow animal path through the woods. There was enough moonlight from a nearly full moon to see just well enough not to stumble blindly along.  
These men moved so silently and liquidly, it was as if they were part of the dark wilds. Danse carried Nemo and Hut had taken Etta on his back, as if she weighed nothing. I followed with Kay behind me. The air was moist and cool, the smell of forest floor, rotting leaves and needles, pleasantly earthy in my nose. It took all my focus to keep up the pace that the Wildlings kept in the dark. My own breathing and the sound of me brushing the shrubs and trees made me feel like I sounded like an elephant tromping after light-footed deer. The path was no wider than a small radstag trail and I had to put one foot in front of the other carefully.  
Etta glanced back every few minutes, checking on Danse and me – or maybe it was just for Nemo, but I didn’t think so. We had become so very important to each other in a very short time.   
I was in very good shape, but I was huffing and out of breath trying to keep up. After what seemed like hours, I felt a tingle between my shoulder blades that told me I was being watched. I stopped and looked around carefully, letting the others get ahead.   
Finally, feeling a surge of fight-readiness, my hand automatically readying my plasma rifle to swing into action, I looked up. I saw them in the trees. Impossibly high, perched on the thin top branches. Blending in with bark and the shadows so well, they were nearly invisible. It was only their humanoid silhouettes against the coming dawn that allowed me to see them at all. I counted seven at my initial scan.  
I turned to look at Kay, keeping the rear guard, “Kay,” I said softly, just loudly enough for him to hear me, “Are these your people?” I pointed up.  
He answered, without looking where I pointed. He was grinning, “Yes, Z, have no fear. They keep watch.”  
I nodded and took a deep breath in; the adrenaline ready to surge made my kidneys tingle in a burning sensation as the readiness to fight was released.  
A little past dawn we came to the edge of a meadow in full growth, surrounded by forest. Ahead of us were a dozen people amongst giant elk-like creatures. My mind drew a blank as I tried to fit what I saw into my knowledge and memory base and came up with zilch. Danse turned and we shared a look of wonder, and a smile. I felt the familiar warmth grow inside from him looking at me. I shook my head slightly to bring my focus back to our environment and tried to take in as much as I could. There were children here; some laughing and a few peeking at the newcomers from behind adults’ legs. The women also, looked as though they had never seem a comb or brush or a pair of scissors. They were all dressed in simple hides and leggings. They all looked robust and healthy from what I could see.  
Hut called out in a booming voice, “Gather!”   
The people and the elks all came to him, to us. Soon we were encircled by the Wildlings and their animals. Two women lay down simple jugs and baskets before coming, one with a toddler clinging to her tunic.   
“These new friends, Danse, Z, Etta and Nemo,” he pointed to us as he named us, “need help to get back to their lands. Z, Etta and Nemo have been freed from Bain and his Ravagers.”   
A collective gasp sounded from all the people around us and a low voiced murmur started.  
Hut lifted his hand into the air, and silence fell among the Wildlings, although the mother of the toddler had picked up her child and held him tightly to her, her eyes wide. They knew of Bain and his warriors.  
“Hut!” cried out a man, “You will bring the evil one upon us! How can we be sure you were not followed? No one have ever escaped the Ravagers! They will seek them! They will seek them and not stop until they find these outsiders!” The man had stepped forward, striped from the shadows cast by the tall evergreens. He, like Hut, was built powerfully. He was bare chested and wore a hide tunic and leggings. Underneath all the hair, he probably would be handsome by any standard, but it took some imagination to see the man under all the hair. I had a good imagination.  
Hut scowled and snarled, “I am no nursling to allow myself to be tracked and followed, Giri.”  
Giri seemed about to reply, when his head whipped around and he quickly stepped aside.  
I saw the people part, like the sea for the prow of a ship, as a figure approached from behind. Instead of another burly, huge man, I had somewhat anticipated, there was a wizened, tiny, ancient woman. Her skin so weathered, brown and wrinkled she looked like a dried fruit. Her tunic was fine suede and thinner that any others I had seen and her white hair was up in a knot at the top of her head, with a sliver of wood through it, like a hair pick.  
She came right up to us and sniffed us. I almost laughed aloud in surprise and was silently grateful that my mouth twitched but no sound escaped from between them.  
Her eyes were dark, like raisins in a gingerbread cookies. She raised them to mine and stared.  
“You will bring death to many of my people,” she announced in a strong but throaty, aged, voice, stepping back, but not breaking eye contact with me, “But they would all die from Bain’s evil in the other future I see. Every one of them. This way, many will perish in battle fighting for our children and the wapiti.” She turned to the Wildlings all watching her every move, “And we will survive in the end. Those left will thrive. Because of these friends you brought us, Hut.” She turned her dark eyes to Hut, who seemed to shrink before our eyes as his body language showed submission.  
“Come,” she said to me and turned and walked through the pathway still left from her arrival between her people.  
I looked to Danse, he nodded and I went with her alone.

ETTA  
Etta was not used to this state of living and being – the constant need for alertness, wariness, and fear. She had been surprised when she woke up and realized she had slept through being carried on Hut’s back. She had no idea how long she had been asleep, but woke up when he went to put her down on the ground.   
Her relaxed sleepy state ended almost instantaneously as she remembered everything.  
Then the Wildlings began to speak and her heart raced again, the sour taste of dread filler her mouth.  
The man named Giri was afraid and angry. He did not want her here.  
Then the old woman who resonated with power and authority had come and had pronounced more death to come. Then she had taken Z with her somewhere.  
More death. More battle.  
Would she ever feel safe again? Etta’s knees felt weak. She clasped Nemo’s hand and squeezed it. He stood firmly, eyes unafraid, next to Danse. Danse made him feel safe. Etta for a moment resented her brother’s ability to trust so implicitly and to feel safe when there was no safety – just moments of respite from the fear.  
She shook her head, angry with herself. She loved her brother and would not begrudge him any moments left in his life of any kind of peace.  
She turned to Hut and asked, “What are these? Why aren’t they afraid of you?” She pointed to the huge creatures that looked like bizarrely huge and differently shaped radstags. Their antlers were huge and thick.  
He turned his bearded face to her and smiled, “Wapiti,” he said, happily, waggling his eyebrows at her. It made him look younger and approachable.  
In wonder, she reached out and stroked the closest wapiti’s flank and it leaned into her hand! She gave it a good scratching and it moved its rump closer to her for a good scratch. She laughed aloud in delight. She had to stand on her tip-toes to reach the spot that had an itch.  
Hut grunted in approval and turned to Danse. “We travel with the herd. We protect them, they allow us to ride and drink their milk. We use the hides and furs of the ones who die.”  
“So, you’re nomads?” asked Danse, reaching out to touch the wapiti closest to him and smiling as it accepted his touch without a flinch.  
“I do not know this word,” Hut said frowning.  
“You don’t have a home base,” he explained, “You travel from place to place.”  
Hut smiled, “Yes, then. We are no-mads. We return to the same places at the proper season, but we are walkers, like the wapiti.”  
She and Nemo’s eyes met. He smiled at her. She returned his smile and squeezed his hand. “Are you okay?” It sounded so stupid, but she wanted to hear him say it.  
He nodded and looked up at Danse then back to her. She understood. Danse made her feel safe and cared for too. So did Z, but with him, even more so.  
She approached Hut, with whom she felt a growing affection, and tugged at his tunic, “Can we look around a bit?”  
“Yes, little one, but don’t go far,” he said frowning, “we will be eating soon.”  
That sounded so much like something her mother would say, Etta’s throat closed in momentary grief. She looked away and down until the gut wrenching feeling lessened. She cleared her throat and looked up at Hut and smiled, “Alright, Hut, we won’t.”  
He nodded at her, frowning slightly. He should have looked frightening, with his fierce beard and broken nose, ruddy tone and piercing dark eyes, but instead she felt an inner warmth. She smiled at him. A real smile.  
She started to pull Nemo along with her, but he resisted. “I am staying here. Near him.” Nemo said firmly. She nodded, and released him, something breaking in her heart for her little brother, but glad for Danse all the more. She felt a sudden burning anger at her absent father, realizing that Nemo had needed him and she had too. He had just left them. All of them. She wished Danse was their father suddenly, and that made her feel weird too. But it was true. He’s what a father should be like.  
She left the clearing. Etta explored. She felt more like herself on her own in the meadow and wood than she had since her first glimpse of the Ravagers. The maple leaves were already turning here – into golds and yellows and oranges. The forest floor was damp and filled her nostrils with the earthy, woodsy smell of rotting leaves and needles from the evergreens. She saw some new plants here and there, in the sunny spots – a lovely pink flowered little plant and what looked like ferns on the border of the wood. There would be fiddleheads in the spring. She saw eyes watching her from her peripheral vision and spun around. She laughed aloud as she saw the young wapiti – its head reaching her own in height – step closer to her. She held still as it approached her and it didn’t move away when she scratched it under its chin. It sighed in pleasure. It put its large head near her own and breathed out. Surprised, she breathed in his warm, moist breath. It smelled of forest and fur and musk. She breathed out in wonder and the wapiti breathed in her breath. They stood for several moments, nose to nose, and Etta closed her eyes and felt her heartbeat slow down and her shoulders release from the tenseness she hadn’t even realized was there. She broke the stillness with a soft laugh, “I’m Etta,” she told the animal, “and I’m just looking around at your home.” It didn’t feel silly talking to an animal at all, but still she was glad there were no people around.  
She continued to walk slowly looking for more differences in plant and animal life. The young wapiti followed her. Everywhere. She found a burbling stream and bent to take a drink. The wapiti bent its head down and drank too. She laughed aloud at the simple joy of having an animal for a friend. When she climbed up into an ancient maple and sat on a large knoll, the young wapiti stood directly underneath her, waiting. She shook her head and smiled. The incessant fear had waned to near non-existence. Her soul felt at ease. She leaned her head back against the scraggly bark and closed her eyes.  
Hut silently parted the shrubs and found her. He looked at her and at the young wapiti and tilted his head.  
“I came to get you for our meal, and I find that you have been Chosen already! You must have within you the spirit of the land, young Etta.”  
“Chosen? By this little guy?” Etta laughed then climbed down. The wapiti rubbed its head on her shoulder, looking for another scratch. She did so and then looked to Hut. “What does that mean? Chosen? You make it sound like something special.”  
“It means, young one, that this wapiti male has chosen to be your companion and your mount when he gets a bit older,” Hut said thoughtfully, scratching under his own thick braided beard.  
“Oh! Well, that’s good, right?” Etta said curiously.  
“You must also choose him, Etta. By doing so, you commit to keeping him as safe as you are able for the rest of your living days.”   
Etta looked up at Hut. His eyes were kind, but serious. “How do I choose him?”   
He tilted his head, thinking. “Spend the day and a night with him and you will know.”  
Etta shrugged and smiled, “I don’t think I have much of a choice! He follows me everywhere!”  
“You do have a choice, young Etta. Choose well.” Hut looked at the wapiti and her in silence for the space of three heartbeats then commanded, “Come, it is time to eat.”  
He turned and Etta followed. The young wapiti right behind her. She could feel its hot breath on her neck it was so close. It felt right, not unpleasant at all.  
Etta frowned. Her mother and the others in her village were always concrete and specific in their orders; Etta go pick a basket full of vines today, or Etta bring back three buckets of water this morning, or Etta, keep an eye on Nemo this afternoon. This was too vague for her, but she had the feeling Hut would not get more specific. This was something she was supposed to figure out for herself. She could do that.  
It was the midday meal, and all were either seated on fallen trunks or on the soft meadow grasses. Etta sniffed deeply and appreciatively. A few of the younger Wildlings were handing out simple wooden bowls and others followed with a large pot of some sort of delectable smelling stew. Her wapiti wandered into the meadow to graze with the others of his kind. She could still sense his presence somehow, like a warm pull from inside of her. She knew, without looking, exactly where he was behind her. Weird.  
Z called her name and she trotted over to her. Z, Nemo and Danse were seated on a large trunk and Z patted the space next to her and handed her a bowl.   
The young Wildling came and scooped a hearty amount into her bowl. She looked to see where she might find a utensil to eat with and realized no one was using any. She shrugged and delicately picked out a large chunk of fragrant vegetable and popped it into her mouth. A large chuck of meat followed and it burst into deliciousness on her tongue. Had anything ever tasted so good to her? She couldn’t remember, and it didn’t matter as she finished up the whole bowl and then tilted it up like a cup to catch every bit of the tasty gravy.   
Another of the younger Wildlings approached her and Nemo. “Hut says I am to take you to get you better leathers and hides. And leathers for your feet. Come.”  
Etta was embarrassed because she couldn’t tell if the Wildling was a girl or a boy. The tunic hung loosely enough to hide any telltale curves or bulges that might’ve given her a hint.  
“Why do you all have long, tangled hair?” she blurted out, alarmed even as the words left her mouth.  
The young Wildling tilted his or her head and said, “We are never to cut our hair. We would lose our magic and our strength. No Wildling has ever taken knife to hair. You have shorn your hair?”  
“My mom did – cut my hair, I mean. It doesn’t affect us,” Etta murmured. Something about that sounded familiar to her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Well, let’s go. C’mon, Nemo.” She tugged on her brother’s hand and this time he came. Danse had said something to him, she thought.  
She sensed then felt her wapiti come up from behind her and then he touched her with his warm muzzle. She turned and scratched him under his jaw and he sighed with pleasure. The young Wildling’s eyes widened. “You have been Chosen?” he or she choked out.  
“Hut says so,” Etta said, shrugging.  
The Wildling sighed deeply, shaking his or her head, “You are a puzzle, girl. I am still waiting to be Chosen.”   
“What’s your name?” Etta asked, hoping for a gender clue.  
“Duri,” answered the Wildling.   
Figured, thought Etta. No clue as to gender there. Duri led them to a sheltered spot in the trees where a wapiti stood patiently. On its back was a huge pile of pelts, furs and leather, tied around its girth. Two women stood patiently waiting for them, Etta guessed.   
The next two hours were spent getting fitted for the most comfortable clothes Etta had ever donned. The boots were made right on her feet, shins and calves with laces so they could be taken on and off. The leather was soft, the fur lining warm and silky. The tan tunic was fit to her for ease of movement and protection.   
Her wapiti watched patiently, but then, he lifted his head as if scenting something in the air, and turned and trotted away. Duri nudged her, “Go! He is asking you to choose him!”  
In her new leathers and furs, her feet protected, she ran after the wapiti. She could still sense him, although she had lost sight of him. She followed the warm pull which was originating from between her breastbone and her naval, as if it were a physical thing. All her concerns melted away as she followed the pull. Her feet were sure and fast, and she was exhilarated from the run and felt as if she could run forever this way, through the wood, along the narrow path. She ducked easily beneath hanging branches and vines as though these were her woods and she knew them intimately.   
Etta didn’t think, she just let her feet fly her through the wood; she felt tireless.  
The pull changed direction and she altered her path easily. This was magic, she thought, it had to be. She passed several large hemlocks and saw a crystalline pond. At the pond was the young wapiti. It was drinking, lapping slowly at the clear waters.  
Etta barely slowed, and came to a stop at his side. She reached out to him and closed her eyes. She felt his warm breath, and she breathed it in. He breathed in her breath too. She stroked his soft, thick coat and knew what he was waiting for.  
“Your name is Ozzi and I choose you. I am Etta and you have chosen me. I will be yours forever and you will be mine forever.” Etta’s hand became warm on Ozzi, heated and tingling. She opened her eyes and Ozzi was gazing at her. Etta smelled burning. She was confused for a moment thinking it was originating from her and Ozzi, but then she saw the smoke and the flames from the west.   
“Ozzi! Run with me! We must warn them!” She instinctually knew Ozzi was too young to carry her – he was small compared to all the adult wapitis. “The forest is burning!”  
They both ran and ran like the wind.


	9. Marcus II

Marcus reached over and took hold of Callista’s cold hand. She squeezed his own tightly and held on. The vertibird was piloted by Captain Joseph McAllister. They flew in silence. The day was clear, cloudless and cool. Marcus released Callista’s hand and took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled at him tenderly. He nodded and took her hand again.  
He had called Franklin, who put Preston Garvey on the radio. He had given a quick briefing of the situation. Preston had had no answers immediately, but Marcus could almost have heard the gears of his quick mind turning.  
Then Preston spoke decisively, “I’m going to call together Z’s normal war council, and I want you to be there. Also, I am going to call in Howard Newman of Oberland. He was next in the election of the Presider. We will need to call the CPG together for an emergency meeting. I’ll have Franklin organize that. We’ll have them brought to The Castle. I’ll need you there, too, Captain.”   
“I’ll be there then, sir,” Marcus had answered, his voice sounding calm and reassuring, even though he felt adrift without either Z or Danse to lead.   
He gazed out at the horizon, and wondered if the force that had destroyed Arnette Valley was coming back and planning on targeting more settlements.  
“They’re going to get back to us, Marcus,” Callista said stroking his hand with her free one. She had tied her long, beautiful red hair back, but still the windy ride whipped stray strands around her face. Her green eyes looked into his, wanting reassurance, he thought.   
“I certainly hope so,” Marcus answered, smiling for her.   
He had not radioed the Brotherhood yet. He needed to know what his superiors wanted to do first and would tell them Danse’s wishes and leave it at that.   
Dealing with the Brotherhood now always left his soul in turmoil. He had been with them for so long and had lived the Codex as perfectly as he was able and it had given his life meaning and purpose. He was so proud to be a part of something so much bigger than himself. Until the Elder had broken the most basic law – the chain of command – and ordered him to secretly assassinate Danse when Danse was fighting for all their lives at Zimmer’s Compound in the Adirondacks. He had pledged his fealty to Danse and to Z that day when Danse spared his life. Vowing to follow Danse and Z had helped him to regain his honor as a man and as a soldier. Being an officer in the Minutemen had done that for him. He was content and at peace with this life. Danse and Z would never, ever ask him to do anything that would be dishonorable or dishonest.  
More than anything, more than at any time in his life, Marcus would have been content to take this amazing woman, start a settlement or move into an existing one and spend his days loving her, working with her, making a life with her where they wouldn’t ever have to be apart – and at this time in his life, more than at any time, he was called to be the soldier that he was and the tactician that was needed for her and all the ‘Wealth. And that was the man she admired and wanted. The soldier, the protector. 

Preston met the ‘bird when they landed. Marcus alit and then lifted Callista out. Preston looked at her with wide eyes.   
“Strong?” he asked Marcus. He must have spoken with Dr. Virgil or any number of people in Jamaica Plain.  
He gave a quick nod of affirmation to Garvey, then made introductions, “Colonel Garvey, may I introduce to you Callista Bellwether, formerly of Pleasant Valley of the Taconics.”  
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Garvey dipped his head, and dragged his eyes away from Callista, “Captain Forquar, meet me in the General’s room in fifteen minutes. Everyone should be here by then, I hope.”   
Marcus saluted and took hold of Callista’s arm and led her to his quarters. “If you’re comfortable with staying in my rooms, I will take you there now,” he told her, “I’ll have someone come and show you around The Castle. If you need anything – and I mean anything – you just have to ask.”  
She nodded mutely, trying to take everything in around her it seemed to Marcus. The Castle was bustling activity everywhere you looked.  
Suddenly, Shaun was there – he had dashed so quickly, Marcus hadn’t seen him coming. All three dogs followed him.  
“Captain!” he called, then stopped in front of them, “Captain Forquar, do you know where my mother and father are?” His eyes were wide and he looked a bit pale to Marcus, “All I get are vague answers from Uncle Preston!”  
“Shaun,” Marcus, stopped fully and faced the boy. He said softly, “We were shot down. Your mother fell from the vertibird and when we landed, your father went to find her. He sent us back to get help. They are both alive.” Or were as far as he knew at this moment, Marcus thought bitterly, wishing he could guarantee his words to the boy.  
“Shaun, I am going to be meeting with your mom’s war council. I know it’s a lot to ask but perhaps you could show Callista around? She has no memories of when she was Strong.” He hoped a job might take the edge of Shaun’s worrying.  
Shaun’s eyes widened as he looked at Callista hard. He had just glanced past her before. “Strong?” he asked in an awed whisper.  
Callista frowned and snapped out, “What on earth are you two talking about? Why does everyone say ‘strong’ when they look at me?”  
“Um…it was the name the super mutant gave us for itself. And it was really strong,” Shaun explained still ogling her. “You really don’t remember me? Or The Castle?”  
She shook her head, her anger melting away in the face of this boy, whose parents had helped her and been shot down because of her, “No, nothing. One minute, I was near my home in the woods, and the next I was waking up at your Science Academy.”  
“Wow…” murmured Shaun. “I’ll be happy to show you around. Let me check in with Annie and Lucy and I’ll be back.”  
“We’ll be in my quarters,” Marcus told Shaun, who nodded and took off running with his pack of dogs around him.

Marcus didn’t care if Callista staying in his quarters was appropriate or not. He did not want to lose track of her in the mayhem which was sure to come in the following days. He would sleep on his couch. He felt his possessiveness grow when Preston had looked her over with a gleam in his eye.   
He opened the door to his quarters in the long building that housed officers. His rooms were comfortable, tidy and sparse. Worn carpets covered the rough wood floors and helped retain heat or coolness. He had a decent sized bathroom with everything it needed and a small sitting room, kitchen and bedroom. Callista looked at everything and smiled. “This is nice, Marcus. She sat at his desk and felt the smooth wood of the desktop and turned on the desk lamp. “Wow, electricity. Running water, too?”  
“Yes. Some of the quarters have shared bathrooms, but officers get their own. I want you to make yourself at home. The bed is yours. I will give you a written voucher to use at The Castle market to get whatever you need. Please, don’t stint.” He wrote a quick note on a scrap paper on the desk for her. “I am going to wash up a bit and then go to the meeting. Shaun should be here soon to show you around. Unless you wish to rest or nap or whatever you want.” He didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to take care of all her needs. He had to be Captain Forquar now, though, and to make the future safe for Callista, he would leave her now.  
“Marcus, thank you, I’ll be fine.” She stepped into him then, and he looked into her eyes. She lifted her mouth to him and kissed him. His arms came around her and he held her tightly. Heat rose in him, more like a fiery inferno to be more truthful. He was losing himself in the kiss, when the knock sounded on the door. Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back.  
“Come,” he called out.  
Shaun came in and had Lucy with him. “I thought you might like Lucy to help out too,” Shaun announced brightly.   
The girls looked at each other, and both smiled at the same time. “Hi, Callista,” Lucy said cheerfully, “Let’s show you around.” Calllista looked back at Marcus and he nodded.   
“Don’t forget your voucher,” Marcus said handing her the slip of paper. “Just show it to any vendors and they will keep a running tab for me.” He turned to Lucy, “Make sure she gets some good gear and clothes, Lucy, please.”  
“Shopping is a favorite hobby of mine,” Lucy beamed a smile at Marcus, “I am very good at it.”  
“Well then, let’s go. I am ready for the tour,” Callista said with another smile.  
Marcus watched the door shut and felt an emptiness in his chest. It was the first time they had been apart in days. A vacuum that hadn’t existed before he knew her was suddenly very real and achingly apparent. He shook his head and went to wash up and change for the meeting. He wore the best uniform he had. Then he went.   
Preston Garvey was at the place Z usually sat. Marcus felt a moment of ire at that. Garvey was a good man, but he was not Z. Around the table were John Hancock, Deacon, Curie, Howie Newman, Ethan Hawthorne, and Nick Valentine were already there and seated.  
“Captain Forquar, please give us your report in full,” Garvey commanded.  
“Sir,” Marcus nodded, and remaining standing, he told of the vertibird flight to bring Callista Bellwether home. He told of the older destruction of the three settlements and the new destruction and burning of Arnette Valley.   
“The enemy have anti-aircraft weaponry, probably missile launchers, and we were shot down very quickly. It is my opinion that we should send vertibird scouts out to gather information on the size and nature of these invaders, and inform the Brotherhood to let them know of this latest threat. The enemy appears to be approaching our settlements from the west.”  
“Thank you, Captain, that will be all. Dismissed.” Garvey waited until he left the room. Marcus shut the door behind him. He was stung that he was kept out of the council. He had thought he would be included. As a matter of fact, looking back at the group Garvey had gathered, none were military men with battle and field experience – with the exception of Garvey himself and it wasn’t his strongest suit.   
He grunted to himself and went back to his quarters. Callista wasn’t back yet. He stripped and took a hot shower and dressed in loose, comfortable tie pants and a t-shirt and got one pillow and a blanket and threw himself onto the couch. Exhaustion hit him hard and fast now that he was not the one making the decisions and he promptly fell asleep.   
He woke to a pounding on the door. He rolled and fell off the couch onto the floor. He had forgotten he was on it.  
“Come in,” he called out as he picked himself up and folded his blanket to put on the couch.  
The door opened and it was the Minutemen Joseph McAllister, William Frost, Eli Manning and Mags McGee. Joseph and he were two of their best pilots.  
Joseph spoke first, “Get dressed, old man, we’ve pulled scout duty. Meet us at the vertibirds ASAP.”  
Just then, a sleepy Callista in a long nightgown came out of Marcus’ bedroom, finger combing her long, loose hair, “Marcus?” she said.  
The Minutemen all gaped at her, then at Marcus, then back to her. It would’ve been comical if Marcus had more time to mentally adjust to having Callista in his life, in his heart. His possessiveness stirred again, strongly.   
He turned to Callista and smiled at her, “Callista, these are my comrades, Minutemen Joseph, Mags, Eli and William. We’re going to go and scout the enemy.”  
She looked alarmed, “They shot us down! What’s to stop them from shooting you down again?”  
“We will know what the enemy is capable of and fly very carefully,” Marcus tried to calm her.  
Joseph chimed in, “We’ll use binoculars and stay out of missile range; we know what we’re about – you’re Callista, right?” at her nod he continued, “Marcus will come home safe and sound, won’t you, Marcus?”  
Marcus cleared his throat and nodded. She was achingly beautiful, with her long hair in sleepy disarray and her jade eyes wide, her lips slightly parted in her new long nightgown in a simple floral pattern, gathered lightly under her breasts and at her wrists. At that moment, he wished for nothing else but to crush her to him and never let her go, but instead, he turned to his friends and said, “Then off with you, I’ll meet you in five minutes.” He moved them towards the door and shut it after they left, with Mags and William craning for one last look at his new roommate.  
Callista threw herself into his arms then, “Marcus, I’m frightened for you. I don’t want you to go.”   
“Callista, you need to know – there is nothing I would rather do than spend every moment of my life with you, at your side, but in order for us to be able to be together, I must do my duty. I am a soldier, and I must defend our home. Keep my bed warm and take care of yourself, and think of me. But I must go and I must go now.” He held her tightly, kissed her forehead and then released her.   
She was holding back tears, but she smiled for him, “I’ll be waiting.”  
He dressed quickly and efficiently and donned his armor and a helmet while Callista watched him. The moment was here. He had to say goodbye.  
He pulled her to him and lifted her chin with his finger, “I will come back for you, Callista. I know it’s early for this, but I am saying it because it’s true. I love you,” he kissed her then on her sweet mouth and then turned and left before he gave in to his desire to stay.  
Behind the controls of the vertibird, back in the air, Marcus felt in control. He was an ace pilot. Mags, who rode with him, motioned him to put on his headset. He nodded and put it on, adjusting the microphone carefully.  
“Clear Mags?” he asked.  
“As a bird,” Mags said back, “Now, you can’t escape me, Marcus. Tell me about the red head!”  
Marcus grinned to himself. He knew he had to face the music with his Minutemen friends sooner rather than later anyway. “She’s a real beauty, isn’t she?” he asked, still smiling.  
“All that and more,” breathed Mags, “The rumor mill says she used to be Strong, the mutant. That’s crazy!”  
“Nothing much seems crazy to me anymore, Mags,” Marcus retorted.  
“So, uh…you and she… are … you know, together?” Mags asked, her voice deeper and quieter than normal.  
“Looks to be heading that way,” Marcus said lightly.  
“Damn, Marcus. Looks like I lost my chance,” Mags laughed.  
“You wanted one?” Marcus chuckled, sensing in her tone that she wasn’t serious.  
“Well, now, it’s too late for me, old boy. I’ll have to tackle Eli and take him like a woman, now, before he gets scarfed up by some drop dead gorgeous ex-mutie.”   
“You know, that’s the second reference to ‘old’ that you guys have made this morning. I am not old. I am barely out of my teen days. What’s up with that?”  
“Hey, old man, mature is good, not bad.”  
“You want me to call you old woman?”  
“Not unless you want to wake up shaved like a newborn babe – all over,” Mags said.  
“There’s a saying, Mags – what’s good for the goose is good for the gander or something like that, so stop calling me ‘old man’, okay?”  
“Fine, fine. If it really bothers you.” Mags sighed loudly, then took a breath and asked, “So, Marcus, have you and Callista done the dirty deed yet? Is it awesome with her? It looks like it fucking-well should be.”  
“I was trained in Knighthood, Mags, you know better than to ask me a question like that.”  
“I’ll take that as a ‘not yet’ then, Marcus honey. You don’t have the ‘afterglow’ yet anyways. I’ll be able to tell, you know.”  
Marcus felt the blush burning up towards his face, and cleared his throat, “I had no idea I was that transparent, Mags. I shall have to get lessons in deception from Deacon.”  
She laughed and reached up and patted his shoulder from behind, “It’s okay, Marcus, really. I am absolutely happy for you.”  
“Well, thank you, Mags. Thanks,” Marcus ducked his head and then checked his altimeter and compass. “Mags, I need your eagle eyes now. We’re coming up to Arnette Valley. I need you to see if you can find which direction our enemy took after the attack.”  
“Aye aye, Captain,” Mags’ playfulness was gone and Mags the Minuteman was back.  
She took her binoculars and began carefully scanning, “Oh, shit. They did a number on Arnette. Damn.”   
“Our ‘bird went down right about here,” Marcus said, dipping the vertibird downwards in a steep swoop.  
“I see it…Marcus, damn, they blew you apart. How the fuck did you land the thing?”  
“Magic, Mags, pure magic,” Marcus said, “Any sign of where the enemy passed?”  
“Shit, yeah. They went almost due west from here, following the main road. They just destroyed everything – things they could have used. Shit! These assholes killed a whole herd of brahmin and just left them to rot? What the fuck?” He could hear the disgust and horror in her voice.  
“Radio William, Mags, make sure we’re staying in contact with them. This force had missiles and they knew how to use them. As soon as you see anything that could be them, I’m going to pull up quick.”  
“Yessir, Cap,” Mags said, back in soldier mode.  
Marcus looked forward and then frowned. The horizon was black with smoke. Below the smoke he could see what looked like flames.  
“There’s fire ahead, Mags, to our northwest,” he told her.  
“Aye aye, Cap, I see it, - looks to be pretty far away.”  
“Still see traces of the enemy’s passage?” Marcus asked.  
“Yessir, lotsa fucking traces. These guys aren’t much for neatness,” Mags muttered and then spoke on the radio with William. She spoke to Marcus again, “Just keep following the road, Cap.”  
As they flew, the fire in the distance became more apparent. The large forested area to their north and west was burning out of control. Maybe a lightning strike, thought Marcus, or maybe set by their enemy for some reason or other.   
Marcus had never seen anything of this magnitude – a fire this huge. It looked like the world had turned into hell itself on the northern horizon.  
Time passed, with Mags making commentary on where the enemy had camped for the night and more about their sloppiness. It was five hours since they passed Arnette Valley, when Mags said with urgency in her voice, “Enemy sited, sir, at your 11 o’clock.”  
Marcus pulled up immediately and to his right, and saw that Joseph had done the same, except that he pulled to the left.   
“Try and get a decent estimate of their numbers, Mags,” Marcus ordered as he continued west. The enemy looked to be marching on the road itself, about 25 abreast. He had not seen the end of the long line yet. He continued on, watching for any sign of anti-aircraft artillery. The line of the enemy did not end.  
“Holy shit,” breathed Mags, “This is FUBAR, Marcus, we are so fucked.”  
Finally, the line dwindled and as Marcus saw the end of the line, he pulled up fast and hard. A missile arched below them and missed them by a hundred feet.  
“Let’s head back, Mags. Make sure William and you come to a number that seems right to both of you.” Marcus spoke as if he didn’t feel the horror and fear that such numbers stirred in his gut. And they were marching east. Towards the ‘Wealth. To war.  
He heard Mags voice and William’s barely audible replies and then Mags spoke into her mike, “Marcus, … Cap,” she said tightly, “We both figured over 6 thousand of the enemy are on the march – heading towards the Commonwealth, sir.”


End file.
